


But You Can Call It Fate

by fictionalportal



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Fluff and Angst, HSAU, Winter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-05-11 08:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5620081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalportal/pseuds/fictionalportal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carmilla's mother and Laura's stepmother are professors at the nearby Silas University, and Carmilla and Laura are students at Sheridan High. Carmilla and Laura have been in class together for a while, but it takes a dinner party at the Hollis house for them to finally meet. </p><p>Main title from "Paper Forest (In the Afterglow of Rapture)" - Emmy the Great</p><p>*note: this fan fic was started before Papa Hollis was introduced in the series, so the character who appears herein is pretty much pure fanon aside from what we learned about him in the first two seasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: death mention, homophobia

Set up for the Hollis’ fifth dinner party of the holiday season was almost complete. So far, their guests had each been colleagues of Laura’s stepmother, a professor who had joined the Hollis household the previous February. She and Laura’s father had a Valentine’s Day wedding, much of which Laura had helped plan. Being so busy had kept her from properly celebrating. She had never been in a relationship, but it was one of her favorite holidays nonetheless thanks to the candy sales that came on the days after. Laura dreamed about candy and chocolate as she set plates out on their dining table. Her thoughts drifted towards romance and, oddly, the girl who sat in the back of the classroom during AP Calculus and AP History but raised her hand for every question in AP English Literature. (Laura blocked out the fact that she, as a high school junior, would have to start applying to colleges next semester.) All she could remember was the girl’s smooth hair, her pale skin, and her standoffish leather jacket. Any other details were fuzzy. She decided she would have to pay closer attention to the details of this girl’s appearance when school started back up.

“...alright. See you soon. Love you too.” In the kitchen, Laura’s dad hung up the phone with a click. “Laura, honey, can you put out an extra plate? Professor Karnstein is bringing a plus one.”

“What? Sure, Dad,” Laura called back, half-listening. She put another plate down on the table and joined her father in the kitchen.

“Hey, Dad, how long until dinner?” Laura asked.

He turned from the counter to face her, a colorful finger-painted apron accenting his otherwise business casual attire. “Oh, half an hour, maybe. Jane said they were leaving campus in about five minutes.” He poked a fork into a small piece of chicken and handed it to his daughter. “A preview for the coming meal.”

“Who’s coming with them?” Laura said as she tore the chicken off the fork.

“Professor Karnstein’s daughter. She tagged along with them today to check out the infamous Silas U library.”

“That place is a little creepy.” She handed him the fork. “I give the preview three and a half stars.”

Her dad pulled her into a quick hug. “Thanks for all your help, sweetheart.”

He was close to a foot taller than she was, though that put him at a pretty average height. She smiled up at him before running around to the staircase that led downstairs to the basement she had claimed as her study room. To the left of the bottom of the stair case was her cozy office. A bookshelf and a dark blue reading chair were pushed up against the wall opposite the landing. Laura’s desk and a washed out brown leather couch were flush against the other two walls. Just above the couch, the only window in the small room was inlaid in the wall. The natural reading light that streamed in had coaxed the couch’s rich chocolate color to crack. The wall around the window matched the deep blue of the armchair. Laura had chosen the walls’ colors and painted them herself. She had read somewhere that having one wall a different color enhanced creative thought, something her teachers had repeatedly encouraged her to hone in her grades and comments. The rest of the walls were painted in a shade close to the beige accents the sunlight had worked into the couch.

Laura picked up her computer and sat down in the armchair, crossing her legs underneath her. She had planned on looking at photos of the girl on Facebook, but couldn’t remember her name exactly. Fifteen minutes of light stalking later, she heard the doorbell ring and ran up the stairs. Her father had already answered the door, but their guests had yet to enter the house. Her step mother entered and he shut the door behind her.

“Carol’s just parking down the street a ways. Hi, honey.” Jane Hollis kissed her husband on the cheek, fumbling with her briefcase. Some papers fluttered to the floor.

“I got it,” Laura’s dad said as he bent down to retrieve them.

The doorbell rang again.

“Steve, could you help me with this?” Jane said, holding out her coat. She pointed at her briefcase. “I’m just gonna drop this upstairs.”

“Laura, get the door?” Her father said as he followed his wife upstairs with her coat.

Laura nodded to him and turned the handle. A tall, intimidating woman in a power suit looked down at her, more than literally, in Laura’s opinion. She beamed at their guest anyway.

“Hi, Professor Karnstein,” Laura said gesturing for her to enter. “I can grab your coat if you--”

“Don’t keep the door open. It’s freezing out there, darling,” she said, dropping her coat over the back of a chair in the living room.

Laura began to indicate where her guest could go to find the hors d’oeuvres, but, noticing that the woman was already gone, shut the door obligingly. A soft knock immediately came from outside, and Laura swung the door open again.

At that moment, she found out that the mysterious girl who was in so many of her classes had dark brown eyes. One of the girl’s pointed eyebrows rose.

“Laura?”

***

Dragged to her mother’s job and then a dinner party with some people she didn’t even know--what a miserable way to spend a Friday. Carmilla had no intention of doing anything but reading for the evening, and so she wore a grimace and her most torn up jeans to the soiree. Business casual, her mother had said. _Fuck that._

She sauntered up the front lawn from where she had parked the car in a cul-de-sac. Her mother had wanted her to practice driving and parallel parking for weeks, and so Carmilla had been forced to drive them and her mother had challenged her to fit their car between the only two street parked cars in the neighborhood. Carmilla would have trudged from the street to the house as slowly as possible, but it was cold and the holes in her jeans didn’t do much to stop the stabbing wind.

She waited out on the front step, silence on the opposite side of the door. She glanced at the doorbell and then knocked, not expecting anyone to hear. The door flew open instantly, and behind it was the small girl who annoyingly raised her hand after every question posed in their history class, regardless if a student or the teacher had posed it. Carmilla raised an eyebrow and cocked her head just slightly, puzzled by her hostess’ stare.

“Laura?” Carmilla tried to think of something else to say, settling on, “You live here?”

“Uh, yeah, uh-huh.” Laura’s reply was more a series of grunts than coherent speech.

“Can I come in?”

Laura’s expression became explicitly hospitable, her smile wide and her eyes sparkling. “Of course! I can grab your coat if you want.”

“Where’s the food?” Carmilla said, avoiding Laura’s eyes and focusing on the warm decor of the living room.

“Um, kitchen,” Laura said.

“Thanks, cutie.” Carmilla replied without looking at her and waltzed into the kitchen.

***

Laura’s heart was racing. She had run up the stairs as quickly as possible after the other girl had turned her back towards the door. Winded after one flight of stairs, Laura silently swore that she would exercise more and eat better when the new year came. She waited upstairs for a moment, listening for any sound from downstairs, briefly pressing her ear against the floor.

“Holy crap, holy crap,” Laura paced her room, dropping Carmilla’s coat on her own bed. “Camilla? Is that her name? And are those really her--”

“Laura?” Her father’s voice rang out.

“Cameron, maybe? Ugh,” Laura dragged herself out of her room and scampered down the stairs.

Everyone was already seated at the dining table. Why they needed a separate table for ‘dining’ and ‘eating’ was beyond Laura, but her father had seemed happy with her step mother’s purchase. Remembering that she had failed to set out cutlery next to the extra place setting, she detoured through the kitchen, searching for a fifth knife and fork. She found a knife, but no matching fork, leaving her no choice but to pick up a children’s fork her father had unwittingly kept for years after Laura had outgrown her obsession with the Power Rangers. The extra place had, of course, been taken by Professor Karnstein’s daughter, who had taken out a pocket sized novel and begun to read at the table.

“Carmilla, you should have left that in the car,” Professor Karnstein snapped. “Put it away. Now.”

Carmilla dog-eared her page and slipped the book under her leg. She sat as far from her mother as she could without actually moving her chair. Laura approached her cautiously, handing her the knife and fork from an arm’s length away.

“Thanks, red ranger,” Carmilla deadpanned, focused on the place setting in front of her.

The fact that Carmilla managed to remain stoic through her delivery of the insult made Laura giggle nervously, a response that caused Carmilla to turn her gaze from her plate up to the girl standing next to her. Laura felt Carmilla’s eyes scan over her, lingering with a quizzical look before dropping down again. Laura left the room again, rushing, but hoping Carmilla hadn’t noticed.

***

Laura practically ran out of the room after handing Carmilla the stupidest fork she had seen in her life. The prongs were rounded and short, and the handle was a power ranger, shown from the waist up, pointing at whomever was unlucky enough to be holding the ridiculous thing. Fortunately, dinner hit the table before Carmilla’s mother could voice some absurd aside reprimanding their hosts for not having adequate silverware.

“Alright!” Mr. Hollis said as he successfully placed a large bowl of mashed potatoes on the circular table just to Carmilla’s right. Mrs. Hollis sat on the other side of her mother and next to Mr. Hollis, leaving the seat next to Carmilla for the strange daughter of the house. Laura sat down next to her without a word. Carmilla glanced up at her, noticing she was still a shade of red that complimented the bright green scallions on the mashed potatoes. They ate in silence while the professors at the table discussed the current drama within their department, Mr. Hollis listening and interjecting a bad joke occasionally.

“Jane, can you believe they’re putting Howard up for tenure?”

“The reviews from his students are abysmal. How has he been around for two decades?”

It went on and on and on. Carmilla hated gossip. She was busy shoveling mashed potatoes into her mouth when Laura whispered something to her.

“Hey, do you want dessert?”

“That’s a little forward, sweetheart. We only officially met twenty minutes ago--”

“Laura, how are you liking your classes?” Carmilla’s mother interrupted, either ignoring or not noticing the mortified, wide-eyed expression on Laura’s face. Carmilla smiled to herself, satisfied at the reaction.

“Um, good. They’re good. Carmilla is actually in three of my classes,” Laura replied.

“Really? She’s never mentioned you before.”

Laura opted for light flattery in the reply to Mother’s false interest. “We don’t really sit by each other. Carmilla always knows the answers in English class.”

“Yes, she’s always reading.” She glanced over at her daughter, eyes flickering to where she knew her book was hidden. “Vampire books these days. The influx of these fad supernatural romance books is--”

“It’s not like I’m reading _Twilight_ ,” Carmilla cut her off, earning her an offended glare from her mother.

“No, of course not.” Underneath the apologetic facade, her mother’s tone was threatening. She continued. “That’s not the kind of romance you really go for, right, darling?”

Carmilla pushed her chair back from the table, leaving the dining room without a word. She could feel everyone’s eyes follow her out of the room.

***

“Laura, don’t worry about cleaning up. Your father and I will take care of it.”

Laura was grateful to her stepmother. She had wanted to follow Carmilla out of the room, but she wasn’t sure she should. Laura found Carmilla sitting on the staircase headed upstairs.

“Hey,” Laura said.

After a moment came Carmilla’s reply. “Hey.”

“Do you want to go hang out upstairs?” Laura asked.

Carmilla nodded once, standing and following Laura up to her bedroom.

“So, what do you read?” Laura asked as she closed the door, genuinely interested. Not _interested_ , necessarily, but curious. Curious about Carmilla.

“Mostly philosophy, right now,” Carmilla said, sitting atop her coat on Laura’s bed. “Gothic era, which is why Mother keeps talking about vampires.”

“Huh.”

“What?” Carmilla snapped in defense.

“Hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that I’ve never read about that kind of stuff, so it would be cool to learn about it.”

“You just said the phrase ‘cool to learn.’”

“So?”

“You’re weird.”

“There are worse things to be,” Laura said, smiling sweetly.

“Yeah, like a freak who spends all her time at the university library reading Goethe,” Carmilla stated somberly.

Laura sat next to her on the bed. “Hey, that’s not weird. You’re reading about things you like. That’s cool.” Carmilla shifted, crossing her arms and turning her shoulders to face ahead of her and away from Laura. Laura continued. “Look, I get that you don’t get along with your mom--”

“You don’t know me,” Carmilla snapped again, standing abruptly. She figured she could intimidate the little nerd into ending the conversation prematurely.

Much to Carmilla’s surprise, Laura stood up and came face to face with her.

“No, I don’t,” Laura said, “but I know what it’s like to have a parent you’d rather not be stuck with. So I thought that maybe instead of shoving your nose back into a centuries-old book, you might want to talk about it. If I was wrong, and you’d rather go back to discussing the particulars of Professor Young’s now ironically decrepit appearance, be my guest.”

“I thought I was your guest. That’s implied in the nature of inviting me over, isn’t it?” Carmilla stared at this firecracker of a girl who stood in front of her. They were about the same height, Carmilla barely an inch taller. They held each others’ glares.

“Laura!” Mr. Hollis’ voice boomed from downstairs. “Do you want any pie before I put it away?”

Laura responded to her father’s summons by making her way to the door, staring at Carmilla the whole time. She opened the door, still watching. Carmilla leered back at her, narrowing her eyes. Laura started to shut the door, keeping her eyes on Carmilla until she was forced to duck out of the door frame. Carmilla couldn’t help but start laughing to herself as soon as Laura had disappeared; this girl was comically stubborn. The door cracked open just enough for Laura to peek her eyes back in the room.

“Do you want any pie?” Laura asked through gritted teeth.

“How could I say no to such a polite hostess?” Carmilla shot back.

Laura slammed the door as loudly as possible when she left, leaving Carmilla even more pleased with herself.

***

“Is everything alright up there?” Laura’s dad asked, handing her two small plates of pie.

“She is incorrigible,” Laura replied. “Where are Jane and Carol?”

“They got some emergency email that they were needed on the main campus down in the city. Where did you learn the word ‘incorrigible?’”

“Weekly vocab.” Harry Potter. “Are they coming back?”

“It’ll take them two hours just to get to the city. Carol said she’d come back in the morning for the car.” Her father had finished washing the dishes and started hand-drying them. “You know, I should really get that dishwasher fixed. Your mother always...”

Laura didn’t care to listen any further. This meant Carmilla was going to be staying the night.

“...I should have listened. Laura? You’re about to drop that pie.” Her father interrupted her, keeping her thoughts from going anywhere she couldn’t rein them in.

“Thanks, Dad. I’ll get some sheets and pillows for Carmilla.”

Carmilla ran up the stairs, leaving the two slices of pie on the counter. She barged back into her own room, arms full of bedding material. Carmilla was seated on her bed, reading.

“Alright you grouchy vampire,” she said dropping the sheets in Carmilla’s lap. “Apparently the professors had to go into the city for some reason, so you’re staying the night.”

“You sound thrilled,” Carmilla said as she slid off the bed and started setting up on Laura’s floor.

“You wish. Is that the ‘kind of romance you go for?” Laura replied, quoting Carmilla’s mother.

Carmilla glowered at her, throwing the sheets down viciously before turning on Laura.

“Do you really want me to get into all the gory details of my relationship with my mother? No? Then keep your pretty mouth shut about her.” Carmilla returned her attention to the sheets.

“All she said was that you don’t like _Twilight’_ s twisted conception of romance--which, frankly, I agree with you on a hundred percent--”

“I’m not talking about this.”

“I just don’t get why you got so mad so fast. Seriously, storming out of a room? Come on, that’s like, something bad movie villains do.”

“Stop talking about it.”

“Make me. She was joking. Why did you get so--” Laura was forced to stop talking when Carmilla’s hand clapped her mouth shut in a motion so fast Laura hadn’t even seen her move. Carmilla’s eyes glowed with desperate rage. She softened as she let her hand fall from Laura’s mouth. Laura could have sworn Carmilla’s gaze had dropped from Laura’s eyes for a split second. Her voice was less charged with anger.

“I get what you’re trying to do, cupcake, so you can give yourself a pat on the back and a merit badge for effort.” Carmilla backed away from her slightly.

“Okay,” Laura replied quietly. “Sorry, Carm. Do you still want pie?”

“Whatever.”

***

Laura left the room quietly. Carmilla sat on the floor and pulled one of the sheets around herself.

Carm? She cringed at the nickname.

Why had she done that? She could just tell Laura that her mother hated her, but that would sound melodramatic. It would take too long to explain, and she doubted anyone wanted to hear the story about the time her mother found out that Carmilla had been reading lesbian vampire erotica online. In her defense, it had originally been assigned as part of the summer course in 19th century literature she had been taking. Carmilla may have read it a couple of extra times.

Laura came back and handed Carmilla a small plate with a rather disproportionately large slice of pie on it. She sat down across from her on the floor and ate her pie in silence without looking up at her guest.

“Thanks,” Carmilla muttered.

“Mhmm,” Laura replied through a mouthful of pie. “My dad always tells me that this was my mom’s favorite recipe.”

Carmilla hesitated, but decided that letting Laura talk would only mean she wouldn’t have to. “What happened?”

“She died in childbirth.”

“...sorry for asking.”

“What?” Laura looked genuinely puzzled by Carmilla’s sincere apology.

Carmilla sighed before offering the vaguest explanation she could think of. “I don’t like talking about my mother, so I guess I assume it’s the same for other people.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry.” Laura put her pie down, presumably to better gesticulate while she began rambling. Carmilla followed suit, putting the plate down and dropping her hands into her lap. “I really shouldn’t have pushed you to talk about something that you very clearly didn’t want to talk about and you basically got dragged here by your mom and I’m not sure why she’s so mean to you but it’s not very nice of her obviously and--”

“Hey,” Carmilla interrupted her.

Laura was silent, her mouth hanging open. Carmilla reached forward and, with two fingers under Laura’s chin, closed her mouth. She didn’t realize that she hadn’t moved her hand away.

“Do you really want to know why my mom hates me?” She continued.

Laura gave a small nod. There was more pure, genuine care in her hazel eyes than Carmilla had ever seen a human being express. She felt the urge to thank the compassionate girl sitting across from her, but she wasn’t sure how to best do so. Carmilla leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek, then withdrew into the sheet she had wrapped herself in. Laura had an expectant look on her face.

“What?” Carmilla asked, confused.

“Oh,” Laura said, slightly taken aback, “I thought you were going to tell me.”

Carmilla suddenly felt like she could cry. Why explain something that would probably just upset Laura and herself?

“You don’t have to, though.” Laura said, paying attention in case Carmilla chose to continue but no longer pushing for an answer.

“Um,” Carmilla started, “I like girls, and she doesn’t like that.”

“What?” Laura was indignant. “ _That’s_ her big reason? Did she miss that homophobia isn’t trendy like it--wrongly--was in the 1940’s? How dare she--”

“Can I kiss you?”

It was Carmilla’s most effective way of cutting Laura off yet. In fact, she was silent for several seconds, just staring back. Carmilla, realizing what she had said, was suddenly anxious.

“I’m--I’m sorry. You’ve been so stupidly nice to me all night and that was just the wrong thing to say.” Carmilla examined the sheet around her.

“Being nice isn’t stupid,” Laura nearly whispered.

Carmilla continued to stare at the nest of sheets and pillows around her, looking anywhere but at Laura. _Great_ , she thought. Not only had she said something completely out of line, she had offended Laura’s entire view of the world. Needless to say, she was completely shocked when she felt Laura’s lips on hers a moment later.

***

“Being nice isn’t stupid.” Laura knew exactly how Carmilla felt. She often got upset that the world was cruel to people who didn’t deserve it. Her own mother had just wanted a second child, and that had left Laura without a mother and a baby brother. Carmilla didn’t need to hear about that right now, she decided. Laura watched her for a moment, noticed how she ran her finger over the sheets, so lightly and carefully, as if they might rip at the slightest touch. Laura figured that she couldn’t say anything to make Carmilla feel better. Not that she could think of any words. The thought of kissing Carmilla was so distracting that Laura could hardly remember what they had been discussing. There was an easy way to clear her mind of the persistent thought, so Laura kissed her.

When Laura pulled back, she couldn’t read Carmilla’s face. Was she about to cry? Laura still couldn’t remember how words worked, so she did the only thing she could think of and went in to kiss her again, but Carmilla pulled away. Laura looked at her, afraid she had done something wrong.

Carmilla looked up at her. The glint in her eyes was utterly unmistakable.

Laura wasn’t sure how she ended up flat on her back in the pile of sheets, but the next thing she knew, Carmilla was on top of her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura finds out Carmilla works at a bookstore. A blizzard traps Carmilla at Laura's house.

Almost a week had passed since Carmilla had gone to the Hollis household for dinner. In that time, her mother had only made sixteen snide comments about Carmilla having slept over. Carmilla had decided her mother was displacing, a word she had picked up in her AP Psychology class. Her mother knew that she was the reason Carmilla had stayed over. Technically, it was her fault, and she was _displacing_ her disappointment with herself and blaming Carmilla.

Not that any amount of psychoanalysis could excuse her mother’s behavior.

Despite the mean-spirited jokes at her expense, Carmilla enjoyed reminiscing about the dinner party. She felt like it had happened years ago--most of the details of the dinner itself were hazy and blurry. But then she would remember kissing Laura, and she was shuttled through time back to the moment that their lips had connected for the first time. Their lips had kept connecting for another hour or so before they fell asleep in a pile of limbs on Laura’s floor, but each kiss shocked Carmilla with the same electricity that the first kiss had brought.

When Carmilla came out of yet another daydream, she was confronted with a long line of Barnes and Noble holiday shoppers. The two cashiers were flashing her desperate looks, so she retired from working the floor and waved a customer over to a third register. She rang up the customer’s single item, a Nook, and rehearsed the mandatory lines asking if he wanted a warranty or an extended coverage plan.

As he walked away without purchasing a plan, another customer shuffled over to Carmilla’s register. The person had a stack of books piled so high that their face was covered and their balance concerningly compromised.

“Hey,” Carmilla said, evidently startling the customer into jumping, “let me get those.”

She circled around the counter and grabbed a third of the stack just before it tumbled to the ground. Laura popped her head out over the remaining books.

“Carm?” Laura’s eyes were bright in spite of the bags under her eyes.

“Hey,” Carmilla repeated more softly. She rarely had visitors at work. Not that Laura had come to visit her, of course, but Carmilla indulged the thought that she might have.

“You work here?”

 _So much for indulging_. “I started about a month ago,” Carmilla said.

“I guess that makes sense. You sure love books, huh?” Laura heaved the rest of her books onto the counter.

“Says the girl purchasing twenty new hardcovers.” Carmilla picked up one of the books. “You know this comes in paperback, right? It’s ten dollars cheaper.”

“I’m not giving anyone a paperback for Christmas. Or Hannukah. Or Winter Solstice,” Laura said.

Carmilla scanned the rest of the items. Laura fidgeted on the other side of the register, eventually opening her wallet and spilling coins on the counter.

“Shoot,” Laura said.

Carmilla sighed loudly and helped her gather the escaped change. Their fingers brushed, just for a moment. Neither pulled away for a second. Or maybe it was a whole minute. _An hour?_ Carmilla had been holding her breath, she realized, so she forced herself to exhale and move her hand back to the cash register.

***

Carmilla’s strange reaction to their hands touching confirmed Laura’s suspicion: she had decidedly _not_ imagined the events that had followed the dinner at her house. She had spent the past week talking herself out of the whole thing, convincing herself that Carmilla’s affection towards her had been nothing more than a flash of lightning in an otherwise dark and stormy sky.

The clock on the wall behind the cash registers announced that it was six o’clock. As soon as the chime went off, Carmilla removed her green smock of a uniform and stepped out from behind the counter.

Laura already had a plastic bag full of books in each hand, but there were two more on the counter. She looked from the other bags to Carmilla sheepishly, hoping Carmilla might offer to help without Laura having to ask. However, Carmilla was already on her way out the door.

Laura cleared her throat, causing Carmilla to glance back over her shoulder.

“Could you get those?” Laura asked, her voice small.

Carmilla sighed loudly again. _What an annoying habit. Does she do this whenever someone asks her for something?_

Outside the store, it was snowing heavily. Laura was very careful not to slip in front of Carmilla. Not only would it be embarrassing, but she might injure one of her newly purchased books. Laura had neglected to tell Carmilla that five of the hardcovers were for her personal collection. The rest would go to her cousins, her father, and her step-mother.

Carmilla followed Laura to her car. Once all the books were packed into the back seat, Carmilla offered a small wave and started heading back to the store.

“Where are you going?” Laura asked.

“To wait for my brother,” Carmilla replied.

Laura crinkled her nose. “You don’t have a license?”

“I failed my driver’s test. Twice. Something about turn signal use being ‘non-negotiable.’”

“So your brother has to chauffeur you around?”

Carmilla scoffed at that. Laura tried not to take it personally. “Mother’s staying in the city late. William’s off work at seven, so--”

“Come with me,” Laura said suddenly. “I mean, I can take you to your house. If you want.”

Whether or not Laura had imagined a smirk ghost over Carmilla’s face, the disgruntled Barnes and Noble employee turned around and got into the passenger’s side of Laura’s car.

Laura got in the driver’s side, but she hesitated before she started the engine.

“Did you get dinner yet?”

“i’ve been at work since noon, so no,” Carmilla pulled out her phone as she responded. Not taking that personally was a little more difficult for Laura. _So much for hanging out with her alone. She’s probably got more interesting places to be. And cooler people to hang out with. I mean, look at her. Stupid glossy hair and dumb leather boots. They probably aren’t that warm. Totally impractical--_

“Earth to Laura.”

Laura snapped back to the conversation. “What?”

“I was just texting Will. You mentioned dinner?”

***

“Where do you want to go?” Laura asked.

_Anywhere. I’m just happy to--_

_Gross._ Carmilla caught herself and forced that train of thought off the rails. She had only really known Laura for a week. Was she kidding herself? She tried to silence the thousand other thoughts flying around in her brain. Most of them were suggestions for potential conversation topics, but none of them seemed interesting enough.

She decided to go for small talk. “What’s your favorite restaurant?”

“We’re here, actually,” Laura said, laughing. In the time it had taken Carmilla to think of a single line of conversation, Laura had driven them--

“Just across the intersection from the bookstore. It’s pretty convenient that two of my favorite spots are so close to my house,” Laura rambled as they walked into the restaurant.

Alarms went off in Carmilla’s head, triggering her most powerful defense mechanism: latching onto and exploiting innuendo. “Hmm, you can tell me more about your favorite spots after you buy me dinner.”

Laura’s jaw dropped, much to Carmilla’s pleasure.

“Well, it’s only polite, cutie. Dinner first, then--”

“Two, please!” Laura jumped the end of Carmilla’s sentence and addressed the hostess.

She promptly seated them at a corner booth in the back of the restaurant.

Laura hid behind her menu for at least five minutes. Carmilla spent the time glancing over the menu without reading a word. She worried that she wouldn’t know what to order once the waitress returned, so she cut through the tense silence that hung in the air.

“What do you like here?”

Laura lowered her menu slightly. Now Carmilla could see her eyes and the top of her head. The warm light from the overhead fixture bounced off the laminated menu and lit Laura’s smooth cheekbones. Carmilla thought about reaching across the table and tracing the soft curve down until she reached Laura’s lips.

“I usually get the chicken fingers,” Laura said in the same serious tone that a businessman might use when wrapping a merger deal.

Carmilla laughed once in disbelief. “You come to this kind of restaurant and order off the kids’ menu?” She expected Laura to snap back with some witty retort, but she was strangely silent.

“My mom used to bring me here every Friday before temple,” Laura said quietly. “I always get the chicken fingers.”

So much for harmless, awkward small talk. “I thought you said your mom died in childbirth,” Carmilla said, forcing her tone to be as gentle as possible.

“She did. I was supposed to have a brother.”

“Laura, why didn’t you--”

“It’s kind of a lot to tell someone you just met.”

Carmilla didn’t say anything. She lifted her hand off the table and let it move until it was hovering over Laura’s.

Laura’s hand jumped off the table and collided with Carmilla’s. _Like two magnets_ , Carmilla thought. She was glad that Laura started talking about something else before her thoughts turned even sappier.

***

Laura was shocked that Carmilla hadn’t heard her stomach growling for the past half hour. She felt lighter after telling Carmilla about her mother, and they talked about literature until their food came. Laura only mentioned Harry Potter twice, once when she listed her favorite books and again when she mentioned that she proudly categorized herself as a Hufflepuff. Their waitress returned with their food just in time to suspend Laura’s in-depth analysis of the Hogwarts house system. She certainly didn’t want to scare Carmilla off before dessert. This place had the best chocolate cake.

“Sorry about this, but we’ll be closing soon,” the waitress said as she placed two take-out boxes on the table.

“But you’re open until ten on Fridays and Saturdays,” Laura whined.

The waitress laughed musically. “It’s supposed to keep coming down out there, and the boss said everyone’s going home early.”

Laura’s eyes widened. “How bad is it outside?”

“Bad enough that the house is covering everyone’s checks. Merry Christmas!” The waitress headed back to the kitchen.

Laura called after her. “Can we at least get two pieces of cake to go?”

The waitress smiled back at her and nodded as she hurried away.

“I’ll go de-snow the car,” Laura said. “Can you bring the food?”

Carmilla shrugged. “Sure.”

Laura zipped her coat up all the way and yanked her hat down over her ears. She pulled on her gloves and pushed the door of the restaurant open. In the half hour they had been inside the parking lot had been transformed into a veritable tundra. Laura dug the ice scraper out of the cluttered trunk and started attacking the ice on the back windshield.

Just as she was finishing the driver’s side window, she saw Carmilla exit the restaurant.

“Did you get the cake?” Laura gasped.

Carmilla held up a second takeout bag as evidence that she had completed her mission.

Laura tried not to shiver as they got in the car. She unbundled herself, stripping off her snow-soaked coat and dumping in the back seat.

Carmilla sat very still on the passenger’s side, but her presence made Laura feel overwhelmed and giddy and warm all at once.

Laura thought for a moment. “Don’t you live like a half hour from here?”

“Thirty-five minutes or so. Probably more in this weather.”

“I don’t think we’ll make it in this blizzard. I only live a few blocks away,” Laura paused, looking up at Carmilla. “Why don’t you stay over again?”

***

Somehow, Laura had toted all four bags of books up to the house. Carmilla had offered to help, but Laura had insisted that she keep the food safe. Carmilla thought that getting the door was the least she could do. Laura had handed her the house keys, but the door wouldn’t open.

“If you kind of jiggle it,” Laura started. She indicated what she meant by vigorously shaking two of the bags full of books.

Carmilla did as Laura instructed, and the lock gave way.

“Dad?” Laura called as soon as she and Carmilla entered the Hollis residence.

“Sweetheart? Are you alright? I was getting worried,” he said as he entered the foyer. When he saw Carmilla, his brow furrowed. “I thought you went to the bookstore.”

“I did,” Laura said, handing her father the bags of books. She looked ready to collapse. “Carmilla works there. We went to get dinner after her shift but then the blizzard started. Can she stay the night?”

“Sure,” Mr. Hollis said sympathetically. “Why don’t you girls go change into some pajamas and I’ll build a little fire in the living room?”

Laura flashed her dad a brilliant, bright smile. Carmilla had a feeling that Laura could get him to agree to just about anything with that face. Adorable. She followed Laura up the stairs.

Carmilla wasn’t sure how she had ended up back in Laura’s room, but somehow she was here for the second Friday in a row. The sheets she had slept on last time were still on the floor.

“Sorry my room is kinda messy,” Laura said.

Carmilla raised a single eyebrow at Laura. “You call this messy?” She started picking through a small pile of clothes at the foot of Laura’s bed.

“Well, yeah, there are clothes everywhere and your sheets are still on the floor--well not your sheets, I mean--”

“Can I wear these?” Carmilla asked, holding up a pair of red and black checkered flannel pants.

“Yeah.” Laura tossed her a black tee shirt.

Carmilla pulled her shirt over her head and threw it onto the bed. She thought she might have felt a pair of eyes on her. She changed her pants quickly, suddenly very conscious of her body and its being uncovered.

“Um, I’ll meet you downstairs,” Laura said. She was staring at the pile of sheets on the ground, her face bright red.

Carmilla smirked and took a few steps towards the door, detouring to whisper in Laura’s ear. “Don’t stand me up for dinner, cutie.”

***

Laura stayed as still as a stone statue until she heard her door close softly behind Carmilla, at which point she continued to stand stunned, eyes wide. She shook her head until she was sure it was still attached to the rest of her body. She looked down just to make sure her feet were actually touching the ground. Of course Carmilla was wearing a black lacy bra. _That’s probably the only kind of bra she owns. And I bet she wears one every day just in case she gets a chance to take her shirt off._

Laura tried to change as slowly as she could, trying on three different shirts and two different pairs of shorts before heading downstairs. She was in no hurry to be back in the same room as Carmilla, not after seeing-- _it’s not like you haven’t seen a semi-naked girl before. You look in the mirror every day._ But Laura was confident that neither she nor any other girl in the universe looked as good as Carmilla did with her shirt off.

As Laura went down the stairs back into the foyer, she tried to think hard about each individual step in order to keep her mind from thinking about her formerly shirtless houseguest. Two more stairs. One more stair. Now turn right. Short hallway, three steps. Living room on the right.

Carmilla was sprawled across the couch looking up at the ceiling and digging gourmet steak fries out of one of the paper bags. If she noticed Laura enter the room, she didn’t show it.

In the middle of the living room floor was one of the throw blankets that usually sat folded on the arm of the couch. Two pillows had been placed on opposite ends of the blanket. As Laura took in the picnic-like set up, Carmilla dragged herself off the couch and sat on one of the pillows. She looked up at Laura expectantly until she followed suit.

Carmilla started unpacking the contents of the takeout bags. There were four styrofoam containers in total: one for Laura’s veggie burger, one for Carmilla’s hamburger, and two for chocolate cake. Some fries had evidently escaped the boxes and taken up residence in the bag itself. Carmilla had picked out most of the fugitive fries, but the few that remained were dumped into Laura’s burger box.

Laura noticed that Carmilla had been even more quiet than she typically was, so Laura decided to start the conversation.

“How was work?” She asked through an impressively large bite of veggie burger.

“Boring,” Carmilla said, carefully removing any trace of tomato from her food.

“Boy, you’re really after those seeds,” Laura teased. “Not a tomato kind of gal?”

Carmilla looked up from her meticulous task long enough to try and stare Laura into silence. Laura, however, was resilient to her icy glare.

“I’ll take them if you don’t want them,” Laura said, holding out her hand, palm up.

Carmilla dropped three slices of tomato into Laura’s hand and then continued to sulk over her food. Laura let her eat in peace, not saying another word. No way she can stay broody through chocolate cake.

Once Laura had finished her main course, she opened the two smaller styrofoam boxes to reveal what she believed to be the greatest gourmet dessert in the universe. She offered one of the containers and a plastic fork to Carmilla.

“It’s the best cake ever,” Laura proclaimed. “I swear it.”

“Thanks,” Carmilla grumbled.

At that moment, Laura realized that Carmilla might be brooding for a reason. She decided to dig. “Carm?”

Carmilla looked up, blinking slowly, fatigue falling over her face.

“Hey,” Laura said gently, reaching for Carmilla’s hand.

Carmilla jerked her hand back.

“What’s going on, Carm? You go all seductress on me in my room, you set up a picnic dinner, and then all of a sudden you’re quieter than the books you spend all day with.”

Carmilla stood and tried to leave, but Laura got up and caught her arm.

***

Carmilla’s skin burned where Laura’s hand had caught her forearm. She snarled at her impertinent hostess. “Let go.”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” Laura insisted. “If you’re staying the night at my house, in my room, I’m not letting you go to sleep all agitated.”

“I’m only staying here because you didn’t give me a choice!” Carmilla said, stepping around the blanket to get in Laura’s face.

Laura started to back away, but was apparently overcome with another wave of caring. “Carm,” she said slowly, “I’ll ask you one more time and then, if you want, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.”

Carmilla huffed. This tiny, insolent girl was going to drag her whole life story out of her if she wasn’t careful. “Will told my mother where I am.”

Laura looked confused. “Well shouldn’t she know?”

“When I go home, all I’m going to hear about is how I left work to mess around with you.”

Laura’s facial expression didn’t change, so Carmilla continued to explain.

“Mother doesn’t like me spending time with girls, Laura. I told you.”

“You didn’t tell me she was mean to you about it like that.”

Carmilla felt her anger bubbling up again, but then she realized something. By getting angry at Laura, she was doing exactly what her own mother did. She was displacing her anger towards one thing and directing it at another. Laura didn’t deserve to deal with this.

“If you don’t want to talk about it--”

“I don’t, but,” Carmilla stuttered, “but if you want to listen...”

They took their pieces of cake upstairs to Laura’s room and sat on the bed. Carmilla recounted her various conversations with her mother from the past week, reiterating that it wasn’t Laura’s fault every time she saw tears well up in Laura’s eyes. After ten minutes of conversation, Carmilla summed up her thoughts on the matter as concisely as she could.

“She basically hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Laura said. She hadn’t touched her cake. Neither had Carmilla

“She used to talk to me like that before I told her I was gay. Now she just has a more specific thing to focus on.”

“Carm, I’m so sorry.” Laura took one of Carmilla’s hands in hers.

“Can we talk about something else?” Carmilla tore her gaze from their hands and looked at the floor, but she left her hand in Laura’s. She has such warm hands.

“Like what?” Laura asked, perking up just a little.

Carmilla felt awful about dumping everything about her home life on Laura. It must have shown on her face, because Laura’s brow furrowed again. A moment later, Carmilla felt Laura’s arms wrap around her shoulders. Out of nowhere, she felt exhaustion melt into her muscles. She closed her eyes and rested her head on Laura’s shoulder.

“I think you’ll feel better if you try the cake,” Laura said into Carmilla’s hair.

Carmilla exhaled a laugh and pulled away from the hug to attend to the dessert.

***

An hour or so after they finished their cake, Carmilla and Laura were snuggled in Laura’s bed under two blankets. Neither had said anything for a while, and Laura was almost asleep when she remembered something of the utmost importance.

“Oh my gosh,” Laura whispered, “tomorrow is the day before Christmas Eve.”

“I didn’t realize that was a holiday as well.”

“Of course it is! It’s the best day to go to the Botanical Garden.”

“Cutie, it’s winter. I don’t think the plants are doing so hot.” Carmilla’s voice sounded heavy with sleep, but Laura shook her awake.

“Lights, Carm! They have the best lights,” Laura said, misty-eyed. “We always go. You should come!”

“If I agree, will you let me go to sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

***

“Yay!” Laura squealed.

“Shh. Sleep,” Carmilla reminded her.

Laura’s lips pressed against Carmilla’s forehead. “Goodnight.”

Carmilla didn’t reply.

She felt herself drifting off. Laura’s bed was incredibly soft. And the blankets--amazingly warm. Between the two, Carmilla felt like she was sleeping inside of a cloud.

Without warning, Carmilla felt Laura’s lips against hers. Where did Laura learn to move her tongue like that? What if her dad walked in? When had she taken off her shirt? Laura sat up and pulled Carmilla onto her lap. When had Carmilla taken off her pants? Laura’s hands were everywhere. Her fingernails dragged against Carmilla’s back under the black tee shirt and unclasped her bra, which disappeared into thin air. One of Laura’s hands was on Carmilla’s thigh, roaming across her pale skin. Laura’s lips left Carmilla’s as her hand skimmed across the band of Carmilla’s underwear. When Laura’s mouth latched onto Carmilla’s neck, she dipped her hand into her underwear, and--

Carmilla opened her eyes. Laura was turned on her side facing the other way. Carmilla shuddered and closed her eyes, trying to get back to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this took forever. Holy shit. If anyone is still reading this, I totally love you. 
> 
> This is a shortish update, but more to come tomorrow. P R O M I S E.

Laura’s body woke her up before nine in the morning. Normally she would have gone back to sleep for an hour or two. However, she wasn’t sure how restful it would be for her her to spend any more time in a bed next to Carmilla, especially considering she had spent half the night thinking about her already.

She decided that going downstairs and starting on breakfast was her best option. She crinkled her nose at the thought of spending the whole day waiting around to go to the Botanical Garden. Her father wouldn’t start making cookies until the afternoon (so that they would still be warm for the light show), and Laura guessed that Carmilla was the type to sleep past noon whenever she could.

 _What do mysterious, broody high school seniors like to eat for breakfast?_ Laura thought to herself. _Everybody likes pancakes. Seems like the safest bet._

Laura gathered ingredients from around the kitchen. She had memorized her mother’s recipe for the “fluffiest pancakes, guaranteed.” Laura wasn’t the best cook in the house, but she figured it would be hard to mess up something so simple and delicious. The recipe was guaranteed, after all.

When she tried flipping the first batch of pancakes, she found out that it was in fact very easy to mess up pancakes if you forget to grease your skillet. She picked up the pan to evaluate the situation: the three little pancake medallions were definitively stuck. Laura stubbornly tried to force the spatula under them again and again, each time knocking bits of burnt batter into the gas fire.

After a minute of trying to free what was left of the pancakes, Laura smelled smoke coming from the stove. She dropped the pan on the counter with a loud clang and turned off the gas burner. The fire disappeared, but smoke continued to fill the kitchen.

Laura was sure the fire alarm was about to start screeching when Carmilla stormed into the kitchen and flipped a switch on the hood above the stove. A fan came on and started clearing the smoke.

“Sorry,” Laura said.

“What the frilly hell were you _doing?_ ” Carmilla snapped. “Have you ever even used a stove before?”

Laura looked down at the counter, staring at the pan she had effectively ruined.

“Put that in warm water,” Carmilla ordered. Laura followed her instructions. “Do you have another pan?”

“Why?” Laura asked. Was Carmilla trying to mock her somehow? She sounds all superior and snooty.

“I woke up because I smelled pancakes. Then I heard something fall and smelled smoke, but I still want pancakes.”

Laura was at least pleased that she had chosen an acceptable breakfast to try and prepare.

“Just let me take do it,” Carmilla said.

A few minutes later the warm smell of pancakes filled the kitchen again. Carmilla had put chocolate chips in some of the batter, and Laura had added blueberries to the rest. Laura thought that Carmilla could be a professional chef. She had made half a dozen perfectly round golden brown pancakes--and she could flip them without getting batter everywhere. _Impressive._ Carmilla turned off the stove and picked up her plate to join Laura at the kitchen table (the dining table they had used at the dinner party was strictly for formal occasions).

“Iron Chef Karnstein,” Laura said through a bite of fluffy blueberry goodness, “these are amazing.”

Carmilla actually laughed. Not scoffed, not smirked, laughed. The low pitched chuckle sounded genuine and sweet. And hot, Laura thought, shocked.

“Who knew you were a morning person?” Laura teased.

“I’ve done a lot of cooking for myself,” Carmilla said.

“You can cook for me anytime.” Laura shoved another delicious piece of pancake into her mouth.

***

Carmilla watched as Laura devoured bite after oversized bite. She could have guessed that Laura Hollis ate like a black hole swallowing galaxies whole, but Carmilla was surprised by Laura’s choice of blueberry pancakes over chocolate chip. _Everyone knows chocolate chip is better, as far as pancakes go._

“Waffles pair better with fruit, you know,” Carmilla said, dragging her knife through a pancake.

“Pancakes are clearly the superior breakfast food,” Laura said, taking a break from her food and sitting back in her chair.

Carmilla laughed again. She had slept amazingly well in Laura’s soft, soft bed.

“What do you want to do today?” Laura asked.

Carmilla raised an eyebrow. “Are we hanging out?”

“If you want. I mean, you’re here, and the roads are still blocked, so...”

“Whatever you want, cupcake.”

Laura spouted off half a dozen potential activities before Carmilla stopped listening. She usually hated when people rambled, but was cute when Laura did it. The longer she talked the faster words rolled out of her mouth. Once she got around to listing the pros and cons each board game they could play, Carmilla decided to interrupt her before she broke the sound barrier.

“How about we just watch TV?” Carmilla got up and walked toward the living room.

“I’m sure I’ve seen whatever Christmas classic they’ve decided to air for the next twenty-four hours.”

Carmilla flopped onto the couch. She had made a decision.

“Mindless holiday propaganda it is,” Laura mumbled, joining Carmilla on the couch.

Carmilla hadn’t expected Laura to snuggle with her. There was plenty of room on the couch, but Laura had chosen to sit on the same cushion as Carmilla. Laura just sat there, practically on top of her, casually flipping through channels. Carmilla felt a pull in her stomach as Laura burrowed into her side.

“Ooh! Harry Potter is on! I knew I could count on ABC Family,” Laura exclaimed, resting her head on Carmilla’s shoulder.

“I forgot to get water,” Carmilla said quickly, jumping up from the couch.

Laura shifted to let Carmilla get up. She took her time crossing from the living room into the kitchen, carefully inspecting three different glasses before selecting one.

“Have you seen Order of the Phoenix? I liked it as a movie, but it didn’t really stick to the book. They skipped so many things, and the book was way scarier. It could have been so much better if they had--” And she just kept talking.

Carmilla felt like the voice was inside her own head. Not Laura’s voice--Mother’s, asking her why she had chosen to waste a day hanging around with this chattering parakeet of a girl discussing such inanities as novels and magic. Most history professors had some appreciation for stories, but not Mother. All she cared about was what actually happened: the truth. And the truth was that Carmilla was rather quickly falling for this strange girl, falling, falling, hitting the floor, shattering.

“Carm, are you okay?” The next second Laura was there picking up sharp pieces of glass from the kitchen floor. “Don’t move, okay?”

Laura left.

***

Laura rushed back to the kitchen, vacuum in hand.

“It’s no big deal,” Laura said. “I drop stuff all the time. Just don’t move,” she repeated.

Once the glass was cleaned up and Carmilla had cautiously inched her way out of the kitchen, they returned to the couch. Laura tried to throw a blanket over Carmilla, but noticed that she flinched.

“Carm, what’s up?” Laura asked, sitting down next to Carmilla and placing a hand on her leg.

Carmilla didn’t move away, but she inhaled sharply when Laura’s hand touched her. She stared through the television.

“You can talk to me,” Laura said.

Carmilla finally faced her. “Don’t you think we’ve had enough dismal discussions in the past week, cupcake?”

Laura recoiled at the bitterness underlying the ostensibly sweet nickname.

“Look, there are things I’d rather do than talk to you.”

Laura’s heart sank. She had been sure that she was getting somewhere with Carmilla. Sure, they hadn’t known each other all that long, but Carmilla had let her in. Or so she thought. Laura blinked back tears.

Then Carmilla spoke quietly: “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then tell me!”

Laura surprised herself by saying the words out loud, but she kept going. Everything she had been trying not to fixate on came pouring out. “I don’t get you. A few days ago you were flirting with me, kissing me, for hours--last night you slept in my bed, and--suddenly you drop a glass and you’ll barely look at me? I try to give you a freaking blanket and you act like its made of fire. This is not normal human behavior and I don’t understand!”

Laura knew she had started crying halfway through her tirade. “And I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much,” she added, expelling the rest of the breath and refilling her lungs with a shuddering inhale. She assumed that Carmilla would get up, walk away, leave the house and never come back. Instead Carmilla just looked at her. Trying to read Carmilla’s emotions was about as easy as deciphering early Akkadian symbols.

Laura blinked. The very moment she opened her eyes, Carmilla’s lips collided with hers. In the week since the dinner party, most of Laura’s free moments (and busy moments, for that matter) had been spent thinking about kissing Carmilla again. Now it was suddenly happening.

Then Laura remembered that it couldn’t.

“My dad is home,” she whispered.

Carmilla kept kissing her.

Laura pushed Carmilla’s shoulder back gently. “He won’t let you stay over again.”

Carmilla tilted her head.

“What?” _What is she possibly thinking?_

“Sweetheart, I don’t scare that easily.”

“Girls?” Mr. Hollis called from upstairs.

“We’re up, Dad,” Laura shouted back. She felt Carmilla shift ever so slightly away from her on the couch.

Laura heard her father’s peppy footsteps descending the stairs. He half-jogged into the living room, his eyes sparkling. Laura’s heart swelled when she saw how happy he was. The holidays hadn’t been particularly happy occasions since her mother died.

“Who’s ready to start making cookies?” He asked.

***

The roads weren’t going to be clear in time for Carmilla to go home before the botanical gardens visit, so she spent the day with with the Holiday Hollises. They had made enough cookie dough for two batches of sugar cookies and one batch of gingerbread cookies. As they rolled the dough out and stamped in reindeer, ginger men, and snowmen, Carmilla found out a lot about Laura from Mr. Hollis.

“I don’t understand where her disdain for gingerbread men comes from,” he said. “Her mother and I love them. But when Laura was three, we handed her a gingerbread man and she threw it on the ground. Done the same thing with every gingerbread man since.”

Carmilla smirked at Laura, but didn’t point out that it might have been an early sign of Laura’s rejection of heterosexuality.

“I’m right here, Dad,” Laura said, her flour-dusted hands on her hips. _She looks cuter in an apron than anyone should,_ Carmilla thought. Laura added, “Plus, it’s creepy to eat people.”

Carmilla bit her lip, trying not to laugh.

When Mr. Hollis turned to put the next tray of cookies in the oven, Carmilla whispered so that only Laura could hear her. “You’re in for a nasty shock when you find out how--”

Laura elbowed her. “Will you cut it out?”

“I’m just saying, if you don’t like eating people...”

“People-shaped things." Laura slapped her lightly on the shoulder. "You know what I mean.”

Mr. Hollis shoved the first tray of sugar cookies into the oven just as Carmilla’s phone started buzzing. It was her mother. She forgot all about taunting Laura and braced herself for a conversation that she expected would be somewhere between uncomfortable and day-ruining.

Carmilla showed Laura the phone screen as an explanation and left the room.

***

Laura had been considering hiding Carmilla’s phone. Her mother didn’t have to be so awful about their spending time together. She was right in a sense, Laura supposed: they weren’t exactly brushing up on ancient European history together. But being correct about the nature of their relationship was no excuse for being mean.

Laura felt a pang of anxiety in her stomach. _Relationship_. Was it too soon to have the “DTR” talk? Did that only happen in movies? Would it totally freak Carmilla out?

“Laura, sweetie? Earth to Laura,” her father said, flashing his flour-coated hand at her.

“Huh, Dad?”

“Are you trying to cut a snowman out of the countertop?”

She looked down to see that she had been grinding a cookie cutter into the gray granite. She shook her head to snap herself out of it, feeling her father’s concerned gaze.

“Sweetheart,” he started, putting down the rolling pin and leaning over the counter, “is everything alright?”

“Yeah.” She knew she was a terrible liar. Her voice always cracked, but she tried anyway. Normally, she wouldn’t try to keep something from her dad. He saw through it every time.

“I haven’t seen Perry or LaFontaine hanging around. They’re usually stuck to our couch during breaks.”

“They’re been traveling,” Laura tried. It was sort of true. They had told her all about their road trip to the next state over.

Her father was not convinced. “’Cause I don’t know how I feel about some of the other kids you’ve been hanging out with.”

Laura stared at him, her brow furrowed. She started to speak, but he cut her off.

“That jock girl, Danny, she’s not very nice to that stoner boy.”

“What?” Laura was thoroughly confused until she realized who her father was talking about. “You mean Kirsch?”

“Yes! I know a stoner when I see one, Laura.”

“Actually, he’s kind of just like that.” She started putting her raw snowmen onto a baking sheet.

He picked up the rolling pin and started flattening a mound of gingerbread dough. “I’m just saying, there are better influences to emulate. Like Carmilla.”

Laura picked up and promptly dropped the cookie sheet in shock. “Carmilla? Carmilla Karnstein?”

“Well, sure. I’m surprised you two didn’t get together sooner. You’re a great pair of girls.”

 _Have I been mysteriously transported to another universe where my dad is surprisingly calm about me having a love life?_ Laura wondered, half-convinced it must be true. She decided to err on the side of caution and let him do the talking. “What do you mean?”

“You both love books, for one thing. And didn’t you mention you’re in all the same classes? She’s a smart girl. Of course, being related to Professor Karnstein, I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Laura nodded slowly, not exactly sure of what she was hearing. “I thought you’d be a little less enthusiastic about me hanging out with someone who’ll probably double major in apathy and nihilism.”

“Nahhh,” he said, dismissing her comment with a wave of his hand. “Everybody has that phase. 'Nothing matters, everybody’s evil,' etcetera, etcetera. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. Gets that from her mother. Just like you.” He pointed at her with the end of the rolling pin.

She tried to process her simultaneous feelings of elation and disappointment. He liked Carmilla. That was good. But the reason that he liked her was not so good.

The timer alerted them that the first sheet of cookies was ready to come out. Laura grabbed an oven mitt and pulled the tray out, setting it down on top of the stove to cool. She took a deep breath. Her father’s praise of Professor Karnstein made Laura’s skin crawl.

She blurted out, "I'm cold--I'm gonna go grab a sweater," and ran for the stairs.

***

Carmilla wished she had a flip phone so that she could snap it shut on her mother’s relentless questions and “loving suggestions,” as she referred her to unsolicited, unwelcome opinions on who Carmilla should be or what she should be doing.

After briefly explaining why she'd had no choice but to stay over at Laura’s house again, Carmilla had silently listened to ten minutes of reprimands and jabs. Her mother tried to make her feel guilty for missing a night of Hannukah, which might have worked if the professor had ever even pretended to care about the holiday. After that, Carmilla got a earful of nasty words about “people like her” and how they were ruining tradition and family. She didn’t believe a word of it, but each vicious syllable felt like an icicle splitting through her skin.

Standing outside on the Hollis’ front porch without a coat, Carmilla shivered and shuddered while she allowed herself a minute to cry. Then she inhaled deeply, steeling herself, and dabbed some snow around her eyes in the hopes of hiding the telling rising redness indicative recent tears.

She turned her phone off, opened the door, and went back inside.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An adventure in a winter wonderland, complete with cookies. Inspired by the blizzard sweeping across where I live.

Laura’s two favorite seasons were summer and winter, and she couldn’t decide which she liked more. Summers at the Botanical Gardens brought bright petals, and Laura’s heart felt as full as the blossoming bushes. She liked to walk around the gardens by herself during the summer, especially on the anniversary of her mother’s death. She had asked her father a long time ago if it was okay for her to spend part of the day alone, and after an hour of arguing he begrudgingly consented. She understood his need to keep her particularly close on that day, but she found more solace in the perennial flower beds than at home where she had to face photographs of a ghost.

Winter at the Botanical Gardens was a different story. She loved going with her father, her friends--really, with anyone she could convince to spend two hours walking through a frozen, snowy garden. It really was much more fun than it sounded.

Armed with a couple of thermoses of hot chocolate and two tins packed full of cookies, the Hollises and Carmilla drove to the Gardens. Laura had confirmed earlier that LaFontaine and Perry would be meeting them at the entrance with an “unspecified surprise,” according to LaF’s last cryptic text message.

Her father pulled into the prime parking spot that they had been given when they signed up for a fifth consecutive year of membership. It was right next to the handicap spaces, as close to the front door as possible. As they drove in, LaF waved them down enthusiastically. Perry offered a bright-eyed, toothless smile.

Laura unbuckled her seatbelt before the car stopped moving. Normally, she would never disregard safety laws, especially in her father’s presence, but she was too excited to stay in her seat. Carmilla, on the other hand, had spitefully unbuckled partway through the drive after Mr. Hollis had refused to leave the driveway until he heard two seatbelt clicks from the back seats. Laura grabbed Carmilla’s hand and pulled her out of the car behind her towards the front entrance.

“Hey Laura! Good to see you, Mr. Hollis.” LaF extended their hand to Laura’s dad. They were always charming around parents, though teachers knew better than to give them access to anything even remotely volatile.

“...and guest,” Perry added, forcing politeness. She stared at Laura for both and explanation and an introduction, her eyebrows climbing halfway up her forehead.

“Guys, you know Carmilla,” Laura said, not wanting Carmilla to feel like she was crashing some intimate event.

LaF and Perry shared a look in silence.

Laura tried again. “LaF, Carm’s in AP Lit with us.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” LaFontaine feigned recognition with a forced laugh. Laura appreciated their effort, but they truly were an awful liar.

A clattering sound from the car interrupted the awkward introductions. Laura whirled around, alarmed that something might have happened to the cookies.

“Don’t mind me,” her dad called. “Just trying to carry enough rations for five wonderland wanderers.”

Laura rushed to help him, picking up the lid that had fallen off one of the cookie tins when her dad dropped it. Fortunately, most of the contents were intact. She tucked one of the thermoses under her arm, balanced a cookie tin on her arm, and left her other hand free to salute her father. He smiled at her exaggerated serious expression, and Laura felt any anxiety related to the rest of their company melt away.

***

Laura’s father checked them in at the information desk inside the front building. Laura was trying to tear into one of the cookie tins, but her gloves were complicating her mission. Carmilla considered letting her struggle with the box for a while longer. Laura’s focused stare betrayed her single-minded determination to acquire a sugar cookie--it was utterly adorable. But Laura was dangerously close to dropping all of the cookies on the ground, and Carmilla wasn’t sure she could get through an adventure with the Ginger Twins without cookies to lift her spirits.

“Oh!” Perry exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air and walking away abruptly.

“Cupcake,” Carmilla said as she caught the cookie tin that slipped from Laura’s gloved hands. She opened the box easily and handed Laura a single cookie.

Laura pouted at the sight of the lone treat and looked up at Carmilla with what could only be called puppy-dog eyes. Carmilla caved in a second and handed her an iced snowman, which Laura promptly crammed into her mouth.

“Poor Frosty didn’t even get to see the gardens,” Carmilla said.

“Whatever. He was delicious.” Laura poked her in the side. “Hey, where are your gloves?”

“Lost them.” Carmilla never wore gloves on principle. It was part of a petty vendetta against her mother, who had zip tied gloves to four-year-old Carmilla’s hands whenever she wanted to play in the snow. Every year after that, Carmilla ‘misplaced’ the new gloves her mother would inevitably purchase for her. This year, no new gloves had materialized in her coat pockets yet.

“I have an extra pair,” Laura said, starting toward the car.

“It’s fine.” Carmilla grabbed her arm and pulled her a little closer than she meant to. Carmilla saw a flash of red hair out of her peripheral vision and remembered that they weren’t alone.

LaFontaine was staring at them with a combination of good-natured amusement honest shock. Apparently Laura hadn’t mentioned anything to them, which irked Carmilla for some reason. She pushed Laura’s shoulder, causing her to stumble backwards.

“Weird way to tango, guys,” LaFontaine joked.

“Agreed,” Laura said, straightening out her coat and watching Carmilla carefully.

***

Perry returned with yet another tin in hand. “Brownies,” she said at a frightfully high and cheerful pitch. She held out the sealed tin to Laura, who was still fixated on Carmilla.

At the sound of brownies being shaken, Laura glanced down at the tin and handed it back to Perry expectantly. Perry opened it and handed Laura a brownie.

“Well,” Perry started, “now that you’re all sugared up, can we get started?”

Laura’s dad exited the building, waving five tickets in his hand. “Ready kids?”

The garden was beautiful. Not that it had ever failed to disappoint, but Laura was always impressed by the intricacy in each little exhibit. The piercingly bright bulbs closest to the ground cast soft halos on the snowdrifts.

“The blue ones are the best,” Laura said, beginning her annual commentary. She always did advance research on the lights show to check for novel additions to the wonderland. “They replaced all of the regular blue bulbs from last year with brand new LEDs. As you can see, it was an excellent aesthetic decision. On your right, you can see them in action in Frosty’s hat.”

LaFontaine jumped in. “Yeah, they’re great from an electrical standpoint as well. If one of these little suckers goes out, all you gotta do is switch the one bulb and you’re good as new!”

Laura stared at them for a moment, which they must have taken as an invitation to elaborate.

“See, the LED strands are on a different circuitry system, so even if one of ‘em goes out, the rest of the strand is fine,” they continued. Perry was a frightfully attentive listener whenever LaFontaine was talking.

“I knew that,” Laura grumbled to herself, falling back with the group instead of walking backwards in front of her friends like a tour guide.

“Cool,” Carmilla replied. “We studied circuits in AP Physics last year. Interesting stuff.”

LaFontaine brightened. “I’m taking that next year! So psyched. Senior year is gonna rule--physics, Calc C, and Diff E-Q’s!”

Perry nodded supportively. “You’ve finished all your distributions, right LaFontaine?”

“Yeah, yeah. They’re making me take another English class. I chose the science fiction elective.” They went beyond ‘excited’ to ‘mad scientist who successfully created life.’

“Is that with Maclay?” Carmilla asked them. They chattered on about the English department and physics experiments. The walking formation tacitly shifted so that Carmilla and LaFontaine were walking in front of Laura and Perry, Mr. Hollis bringing up the rear.

Since when are they so buddy-buddy? Laura thought, crossing her arms across her chest. Her puffy coat kept her from wrapping her arms around herself all the way, so she settled for an indignant huff.

Perry whispered to her. “Who knew Carmilla was so...sociable?” She hurried a couple paces ahead to catch up to the group leaders.

“Yeah, who knew,” Laura muttered, surprised that the awkwardness had faded so quickly. Her friends seemed to like Carmilla, and that could only be a good thing. Right?

***

After telling LaFontaine about her favorite lab from AP Physics, Carmilla dropped back a few steps to fall in line with Laura.

“Hey,” Carmilla said.

“Hey yourself,” Laura replied. “So when were you gonna tell me you’re a science geek?”

“I had originally planned for next Thursday, but I guess it slipped out early.”

Laura laughed and took Carmilla’s arm in hers. “I love it out here.”

“Thanks for bringing me. It’s beautiful.”

Laura stopped walking. By the expression on her face, Carmilla judged she had either come up with an idea or consumed the rest of Perry’s brownies in a single gulp.

“I want to show you my favorite spot.” Laura was practically jumping up and down.

“You sure have a lot of favorite places, cutie.”

“Yes. We’ll be right back, Dad!” Laura shouted over her shoulder as she grabbed Carmilla’s hand.

She led her off of the plowed path into the half-meter-high snowdrifts.

Carmilla followed Laura without question until they approached a rather poorly lit part of the gardens.

“Uh, sweetheart, hate to interrupt your intrepid journey into the depths of the Botanical Gardens, but it’s getting dark over here,” Carmilla said.

“Just wait a second,” Laura said, glancing around and stopping right in front of a wall of hedges. “Through here.”

She dropped Carmilla’s hand and brushed snow off of the hedges. What looked like small passageway revealed itself between two shaped pines. She tugged Carmilla’s hand and disappeared between the bushes. Carmilla hesitated, annoyed that she might get snow stuck in the hood of her dark green coat, but Laura pulled on her hand again and she ducked under the branches.

The needles plucked Carmilla’s hat off of her head. She snatched it out of the snowy foliage, but decided against putting it back on. It would be all damp and cold and upsetting, and she was rather enjoying not being grumpy.

“Here we are.” Laura had walked a few steps ahead. She stood in the middle of a little gazebo that overlooked a frozen lake opposite the hedge wall. It was a striking sight, Carmilla thought. Placid and peaceful.

“I can see what makes this place so special,” Carmilla said, joining Laura.

Laura sat on one of the miraculously un-snowy benches inside the gazebo. Carmilla sat across from her. “I come here a lot in summer. And in winter. But Dad doesn’t like driving in snow and I can’t really walk here when it’s freezing outside--”

“Why?”

Laura laughed. “Because I don’t want my toes to fall off, silly.”

“No, why do you come here?” Carmilla hoped that she had shed her usual sarcastic edge in asking the question.

“Oh,” Laura laughed. “I just like to look out over the water.”

Carmilla glanced out at the definitively frozen lake and smirked. “Not too much water to see this visit, cutie.”

“Well--ice is technically water. Take that, Miss Science Geek.”

“Can’t argue with facts,” Carmilla teased, cocking her head a little.

“No, you can’t. I win.” Laura crossed her arms over her chest triumphantly. Her valiant pose was again compromised by her puffy jacket, and Carmilla couldn’t help but think that she was seated across from an angry gray marshmallow. After a moment of shamelessly staring, Carmilla noticed that Laura’s attention had wandered from their conversation. She looked pensive, like she was trying to consider the importance of each tiny atom that made up the water in the lake.

“Why do you come here?” Carmilla repeated.

Laura huffed out an exhale before taking a deep breath and replying. “It’s just...beautiful. Even in winter when everything is icy and hibernating, it’s all alive under there. It’s all going to come back. To experience the circularity of it all--it’s breathtaking.”

Carmilla was stunned by the profundity of Laura’s thoughts on the matter. She hadn’t expected an answer as simple as “flowers are pretty,” but she certainly hadn’t guessed that this bouncingly extroverted girl had a secret introspective side. Far be it from Carmilla to judge a thoughtful person for being philosophically pretentious on occasion.

“We should get back,” Laura broke her own silence, though she continued to stare out at the lake with a tranquil sparkle in her eye. She turned back to Carmilla and smiled. “I just wanted to show you.”


	5. Chapter 5

Laura got up off the bench to rejoin the rest of their wonderland exploration group. When she didn’t hear footfalls behind her, she turned to see Carmilla looking out across the lake, still seated.

“Carm?”

She snapped to attention, looking up at Laura. One corner of Carmilla’s mouth twitched up, and Laura suddenly felt a bit too warm in her coat.

Laura extended a hand and smiled a tight, expectant smile. A full smirk took form on Carmilla’s face as she placed her hand in Laura’s.

When they caught up to the rest of their party, Laura received a stern, pursed-lip glare from Perry and a thumbs up from LaFontaine. She knew she would have to answer some probing questions later.

At the end of the tour, LaFontaine tried to corner Laura by the enormous pine-turned-outdoor-Christmas-tree, but their efforts were thwarted. Perry blurted out something about being late for dinner and “shouldn’t we be going, LaFontaine?” Her unblinking, piercing stare was enough to convince LaFontaine that they were indeed late for a very important engagement.

“Later, L,” LaFontaine said, pulling their friend into a hug.

Perry grabbed LaFontaine by the shoulder and started dragging them towards the car. LaFontaine flashed Laura another thumbs up and then pivoted to follow Perry.

As Laura’s dad drove the remaining three wonderland adventurers towards the Karnstein residence, Laura found herself wishing that Carmilla could stay over again. The rational part of her brain knew that it would be ridiculous to ask. Her father was bound to be suspicious. Not that he had any reason to make assumptions. He liked Carmilla well enough. What’s wrong with sleeping over at a good friend’s house a couple nights in a row? Laura thought. The rational part of her brain was losing traction fast.

“How ‘bout that tree?” Laura’s dad said.

“Best tree ever,” Laura replied, the mist of fantasy clearing.

Her dad laughed. “You say that every year, sweetheart.”

“And I mean it every year.”

“You remember that one from a few years back?” He started laughing, interrupting himself between words to guffaw. “With the--with the huge--”

“The chicken!” Laura exclaimed, turning to her right abruptly and grabbing Carmilla’s arm.

“The giant chicken!” He wheezed, breathless from cackling.

Laura doubled over, joining her father in the glee of reminiscing. “That thing was, like, a full meter tall!”

“And the crown!” Her dad cut in. “He had a crown!”

Laura felt hot, hysterical tears on her cheeks. Only when she moved to wipe them away did she realize that she had been holding onto Carmilla for a rather lengthy moment. Once the tears were taken care of, she glanced at Carmilla. The look on her face was somewhere between amusement and abjection.

Laura cleared her throat. “Had to be there, I guess.”

“Sounds like it,” Carmilla said. Her dry but light tone leaned on the side of amusement. “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Hollis.”

The car had come to a stop in the Karnsteins’ driveway.

“I’ll walk you up, say hi to your mom,” Mr. Hollis offered. He asked Laura, “You wanna stay in the car, honey? It’s chilly out.”

Carmilla caught her eye, and Laura sensed pleading. Whether Carmilla was begging her to stay in the car or go to the door, however, was uncertain. Laura made a split-second decision, hoping that her father wouldn’t notice anything strange.

“I’ll stay here,” Laura said casually. “Tired. You know. Lots of walking.”

She saw the tension leave Carmilla’s shoulders.

“Alrighty. I put the emergency brake on, but if the car starts rolling down the driveway--”

“Dad.”

“Right.” He got out of the car and circled to open the back door, leaving Carmilla and Laura alone for a brief moment.

“Goodnight,” Laura said.

Carmilla just looked at her. When her door popped open, she replied with a clipped “’Night.” She got out and the door closed behind her.

 _Potential romantic moment interrupted courtesy of full-service chauffeur_ , Laura thought. She took advantage of the quiet moment to reflect on the evening, like she might do after a date, though she had never really been on a date. There was that time that Kirsch had asked her to go see The Lego Movie, but he hadn’t offered to buy her ticket, so Laura didn’t consider it a date. Not that she believed antiquated ideas about gender roles and courting. She had gone to a hockey game with Danny once, but that was only because Kirsch had gotten grounded. Did getting snowed in and having an indoor picnic count as a date?

Laura was startled when the driver’s side door opened. The Karnsteins must have had an epically long walk up from their driveway for her to get so lost in her head. She spent the rest of the drive reminiscing with her father about wonderlands past.

Barely a minute after the Hollises opened their garage door, the phone rang. Laura’s dad ran to answer it, handing Laura his coat to hang up in the laundry room. By the time she had finished sorting their assorted winter gear into the appropriate closet cubbies, her dad came back.

“So,” he started, “we’ve been invited to a New Year’s Eve party!”

“Oh. Neat,” Laura said.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll say! You know, they could probably fit a whole party’s worth of people in their foyer alone.”

“They?” Laura asked.

“The Karnsteins,” her dad replied.

“The Karnsteins.”

“That’s right.”

“We’re going to a party. At Carmilla’s house.” _With her horrible mother._

Her dad narrowed his eyes at her. “You feelin’ alright, kiddo?”

“Super.”

***

Carmilla stood on the front step of her house with Laura’s dad. It had gotten significantly colder out, and Carmilla felt her body shivering rather violently.

“So, didja enjoy the light show?” Mr. Hollis asked, his hands in his pockets. He bounced up and down--his coat was back in the car.

Carmilla made a point of caring as little as possible about anything that adults wanted her to care about, but she couldn’t help but be honest with Mr. Hollis. “I loved it.”

“It’s our annual thing,” he continued. “You know, when Laura was little--”

The front door swung open. Will greeted his sister with an unenthused wave and proceeded to walk away, leaving the door open behind him.

Carmilla turned to Mr. Hollis.

“Next time,” he said, waving her into the house. “Go get warmed up.”

He was awfully nice for a parent. She smiled at him and hesitated to go inside.

“Baby Laura stories can wait. I’ve got a million of ‘em.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Hollis.” She went inside and shut the door as he waved again.

Carmilla suspected that she would feel less like a captive animal in a hyena pen. She trailed into the perpetually unmussed living room where the unwelcome smell of sweet smoke made her want to run back outside into the frozen night.

“Mother isn’t home?” She asked her brother.

Will spritzed Febreze on the couch. “Yeah.”

“Are you kidding me, Will?”

“Nah. She’s out.” He flopped over on the freshly de-odorized couch and giggled.

She glared at him.

He made no indication that he had heard her. Either he had suddenly fallen asleep or he was fake-snoring.

Carmilla circled about the kitchen, hopeful that she might find some leftover snack from Will’s munchie stash. No luck after ten minutes of foraging. She felt the heaviness of a busy day weighing her bones down and decided to make her way upstairs to her room.

When she reached the top of the stairs, she heard the voice that made her blood freeze.

“Carmilla?” Mother. “Is that you?”

She trudged into her mother’s study. “Will said you were out.”

Mother pointed to the computer screen in front of her. “Would you proofread this for me? You’re so good with words and all that.”

“...Sure.” Carmilla stepped off of the hallway’s carpet and onto the mahogany floor. It was cold, even through her thick socks. She stood as far from her mother as she could and bent over to examine the screen. Some sort of invitation.

“I just called and invited Jane’s family.”

“This red is too bright. Jane who?”

“Hollis, sweetheart. I’ll go with the blue.”

Carmilla was, unfortunately, not having a nightmare.

“Or is green more of a New Year’s color?” Mother asked herself. She changed the font color four times--blue, green, lighter green, blue.

“Just pick one,” Carmilla snapped. “No one’s going to look that closely. Why did you invite them?”

Her mother turned her gaze away from the computer for the first time since Carmilla had entered the room. She stared at her daughter for a moment, then looked back at the screen. “You’re probably right, dear. Green, then.”

“Why did you invite them?” Carmilla repeated more quietly.

“Well, you seem to like this Laura girl--”

“I don’t like her,” Carmilla hissed.

“I already invited them, so don’t throw a fit about it. And Steve said the whole family would come,” Mother replied as quickly as Carmilla had interrupted. “I think I like the blue.”

Carmilla fought the impulse to run out of the room and sprint off into the winter night. “Fine,” she managed to say.

“Goodnight, Carmilla,” her mother said without looking up again.

Carmilla traversed the hallway in as few steps as she could manage, making it to her room in what must have been an Olympic power walking record. She fell onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling. The strand of blue lights on the wall across from her didn’t provide much actual illumination, but their gentle glow calmed her. She realized that she had forgotten to brush her teeth, but she decided to sacrifice a night’s hygiene in order to avoid the possibility of running into her mother again. Her mother, who had somehow completely missed the smell of smoke wafting through the house but still managed to examine every corner of Carmilla’s social life with the subtlety of a floodlight.

Sometime in the middle of the night she woke up from a sleep that she didn’t realize she had fallen into. It took her a moment to figure out that the tightness around her waist was from her jeans--she hadn’t changed her clothes. Sitting up, she kicked off her boots, socks, and pants. She threw her coat on the ground by her bed and stripped her shirt off. She fished through the blankets on her bed and found a sweatshirt to replace the discarded shirt. Her sleeping ensemble included the same oversized gray sweatshirt every night unless it was dirty or it was a particularly hot summer night--or she was staying over somewhere unexpectedly. She had found it at a thrift shop almost two years ago, and she took comfort in knowing that she would never grow into it. It was a men’s size large and had a faded red logo for ‘Trevor’s Bait and Tackle Emporium’ on the front. Carmilla couldn’t speak to Trevor’s standards for fishing bait, but she silently congratulated him on the quality of the shop’s sartorial merchandise.

When Carmilla fell back asleep, she dreamt that the New Year’s Eve party guests were all fish, swimming through the air, searching for gold coins scattered around the house.

***

Laura, Perry, and LaFontaine had gathered at the Hollis household in preparation for the Karnsteins’ New Year’s Eve party. The three were hurriedly getting ready in Laura’s bathroom.

“It just won’t hold,” Perry whined, dragging a hot flat iron over a stubborn curl. The ringlet stayed straight for barely a moment before springing back into its natural shape. She yanked the flat iron’s cord out of the electrical socket with a sound that reminded Laura of a Wimbledon champion’s most exertive grunt. She put her hands on her hips and faced Laura, who was applying mascara. “You’re sure we’re not crashing?”

“Yes, Perry,” Laura said for the third time. “Carmilla’s mom said to bring the whole family. And that includes you guys.”

“Okay,” Perry said, tapping her fingers together. “But you’re absolutely sure?”

“Speaking of Carmilla,” LaFontaine broke in, shoving their way between Perry and Laura to claim a space in front of the mirror to tie their purple bowtie.

Laura rolled her eyes. LaFontaine hadn’t let up since their trip to the Botanic Gardens, and Laura had been dodging their prodding in the most enigmatic fashion she could think of.

“Spill, L. Your emoji comics aren’t as subtle as you think,” LaFontaine insisted. “So many heart-eyes,” they muttered, fumbling the fabric of the tie and losing the knot.

Perry huffed and gestured for LaFontaine to face her. She undid the crooked bow.

“Don’t forget all the butterflies,” Perry added. “Though I’m not sure what the--” her hand fluttered about as she searched for the right word-- ”grapefruit meant.”

“Hey, guys, standing right here,” Laura said. “And I was hungry, thank you very much.”

“Hungry for Carmilla,” LaFontaine said, wiggling their eyebrows.

“Congratulations, you’ve mastered the single entendre,” Laura said.

Mr. Hollis’ voice rang out from downstairs. “Five minutes ‘til takeoff, people!”

“Got it, Dad!” Laura called back.

“Perr, my tie’s still crooked,” LaFontaine complained.

“Not if you don’t play with it,” Perry replied, lightly slapping their hand away from their colorful neckwear.

Laura had considered telling her friends more about Carmilla, but she wasn’t entirely sure how to describe what was going on between them. Perry and LaFontaine didn’t keep anything from each other, and Laura felt that they expected the same from her--but she liked having something for herself. As far as they knew, Laura had an unrequited crush. Laura wasn’t about to tell Perry and LaFontaine the details of their surprise sleepovers.

She certainly wasn’t going to show them the increasingly suggestive texts that they had been exchanging since the Botanic Gardens adventure. While selecting what to wear to the party, Laura had texted Carmilla, “What are you wearing?” Her innocent inquiry into the dress code for the soiree quickly careened away from appropriate.

Laura had unabashedly planned her outfit so that she would be comfortable enough to converse with any academically acclaimed invitees sans nervousness. She could wade her way through small talk or intellectual discussions as long as she was in the right shoes. She went with a black dress, gold accessories, and Vans. The skateboarding shoes would add the right amount of casual to the otherwise possibly-too-fancy ensemble, she decided. She wasn’t sure if she was so worried about impressing Carmilla, the professors, or the terrifying hostess herself.

“Alright, van’s moving out!” Laura’s dad announced.

Laura turned to her friends, who were arguing over how tightly to tie the bow tie. “Everybody ready?”

“Choking, but ready,” LaFontaine said, side-eyeing their wardrobe manager for the evening.

“It looks nicer that way,” Perry insisted.

“Let’s go, people!” Laura’s dad shouted again. He hated being late.

 _Here we go_ , Laura thought to herself as she took a last look in the mirror.

“You look great,” LaFontaine said, placing a hand on Laura’s shoulder. “Now let’s party!”


	6. Chapter 6

Black was usually Carmilla’s color. The darker her clothes were, the happier she was, generally speaking. She felt like she could disappear into the shadows at a moment’s notice as long as she was camouflaged appropriately.

Somehow, her mother had even ruined black for her. Carmilla had found a garment cover on her bed the morning of the 31st. Hesitantly, she’d unzipped it and found one of the ugliest dresses she’d ever seen inside. It had a scoop neck collar--Carmilla’s least favorite neckline--and tapered in at the waist. The puffy black skirt had dozens of layers of netted petticoat underneath it, but that wasn’t even the worst part. Around the waist there was a giant asymmetrical bow. The bow would sit over Carmilla’s left hip for the duration of the New Year’s Eve party, during which Carmilla expected she would die of embarrassment.

She waited to put the dress on as long as she could, hoping that her mother would be too preoccupied with pruning the white and purple flowers in the cocktail table centerpieces to notice. Of course, the party was catered professionally. The foyer looked like the inside of an awards show gala, complete with half a dozen tall tables, white-shirted waiters and coat valets, a long black carpet from the front door to the hors d’oeuvres table. Their living room had been turned into drinks central. The couch was gone and a long, elegant, black bar had taken its place.

The dining room table had become a buffet, a plain white tablecloth covering the deep brown wood. “It simply doesn’t fit the color scheme,” Mother had said, complaining that the decorating company had forgotten such an obvious detail in their planning. She’d taken it upon herself to go to the store and pick up the most expensive disposable tablecloth available.

Carmilla had been put in charge of organizing the front closet so that it could be used to store coats. She’d handled the task as unceremoniously as possible, sweeping up all of their coats and scarves in her arms and dumping them upstairs in Will’s room.

At 8:52, Mother had finally noticed that Carmilla wasn’t dressed for the party yet. “What guest in their right mind would want to socialize with a hostess who looks like one of the help?”

“None of them, I hope,” Carmilla mumbled.

“Nonsense. Go make yourself presentable.”

Carmilla held back a groan and headed up the stairs. She ran into Will on his way out of the bathroom. He was wearing a black tee shirt and black jeans, which would have been Carmilla’s own choice had she been allowed input in her own wardrobe for the evening. Will’s hair had enough gel in it that it didn’t move at all when he walked.

“Nice cowlick,” Carmilla said, pointing at a non-existent curl on his forehead.

“What?!” Will exclaimed, running back into the bathroom to look in the mirror. He checked his hair again and found not a single strand out of place. He made his way towards the stairs, flipping his middle finger up at his sister as he passed.

Carmilla scoffed at the gesture and then faced her destitute fate. The dress sat atop her comforter, the skirt taking up as much space as any of her pillows.

“Cruel and unusual,” she said to herself, staring at the fashion disaster in front of her.

Then she had an idea.

She would wear the dress that her mother bought for her. But she would make it hers. She stalked over to the desk against the wall across from her bed, searching the second drawer for scissors. She lifted the dress, and with three well-placed snips the grotesque bow was gone. Carefully, she cut along the bottom of the waist line, separating the skirt from the rest of the dress. A few of the many netted layers joined the skirt on the ground, and Carmilla was left with something approaching wearable. The scoop neck couldn’t be fixed with scissors unless she wanted to appear in a scandalously low v-neck.

Considering this was a New Year’s Eve party, her mother couldn’t get mad at her for going with a smoky eye. In fact, she would probably applaud her daughter’s conscientious evening makeup choice. A little silver, a little dark gray, and some eyeliner and she was ready to entertain the most boring group of intellectuals that she had the displeasure of associating with whenever her mother threw gatherings and dinner parties. Carmilla pulled on her favorite pair of boots, combat boots with a three-inch heel, and went downstairs just in time to receive the first guest of the night.

An elderly man and a similarly silver-haired woman walked down the black carpet, handing their coats to the valet. When the old man saw Carmilla, he broke into a smile.

“My dear!” He came over to the bottom of the stairs to hug her.

“Professor Young,” Carmilla replied. She’d always been fond of the old man, even if he was prone to randomly making long-winded speeches on obscure historical events.

“You’ve gotten so big!” His eyes sparkled as he whispered, “Taller than William yet?”

Carmilla laughed once, quietly. Professor Young squeezed Carmilla’s hand and gave her a firm nod and a smile before heading for the bar with his wife. Maybe the evening wouldn’t be as awful as she’d anticipated.

An icy voice spoke behind her. “What in the world is that you’re wearing?” Mother was in--what else--a sharply cut black pantsuit.

Professor Young’s kind, mischievous smile inspired Carmilla to reply with the truth: “The dress you bought me.” She breezed past her mother and grabbed one of the miniature quiches from the buffet, leaving a gaping hole in the display of platters and tiered trays.

***

By the sound of it, the Karnsteins’ party was already in full force by the time Laura’s group arrived. Her father and step-mother, who weren’t experiencing the intimidating mansion for the first time, were a few steps ahead of Laura, LaFontaine, and Perry. There were two men in bright white shirts waiting outside the door, grinning like they were being paid a hundred dollars an hour to do so (which, given the fact that the house had twenty-foot-tall Ionian columns framing the entrance, was not a stretch of the imagination). One of the men opened the door for them as they approached, and another took their coats once they were inside.

“Boy, Carmilla went all out, huh?” LaFontaine whispered to Laura.

“Pretty sure this is a hundred percent her mom,” Laura replied, taking in the grandiosity of the party.

Perry popped her head between them to offer her opinion. “You know, normally I would say that this is all a little much, but--are those creampuffs?” She and LaFontaine wove through the cocktail tables in a beeline towards the buffet.

“Steve, shall we grab some drinks?” Jane Hollis said to her husband.

“Of course, dear,” Laura’s dad said, offering his arm.

“I’ll need at least two before Howard tries to talk to me about his ideas for ‘improvements’ to next semester’s syllabi,” Jane said. “I swear, he just wants to tack on Foucault in the most inappropriate places...”

Her father laughed as the duo disappeared into the crowd.

Laura wasn’t alone for more than a few seconds before her hostess found her. Unfortunately, she wasn’t greeted by the Karnstein she’d hoped to run into first.

“Thrilled you could make it, Laura darling,” Professor Karnstein said loudly as her heels clicked towards Laura. If the exterior of the house itself had been intimidating, Carmilla’s mother looked certifiably terrifying. Her outfit made Laura feel like she herself had just been named the losing defendant in a civil court who had been sentenced to pay out millions of dollars to a conniving ex.

“Hi, Professor,” Laura said, reluctantly extending her hand. “Nice to see you again.”

Carmilla’s mother didn’t stop to shake Laura’s hand and went in for hug instead. She kissed the air next to Laura’s left cheek, then next to her right. “Drinks are through there and the buffet is, of course, open all night. Do indulge yourself.” She smiled saccharinely and went off, presumably to make other guests supremely uncomfortable in their own skins. Her final words to Laura sounded more like a challenge than an extension of hospitality.

Laura hoped that stress eating could distract her from the fact that she was trapped in a dragon’s den for the next few hours. She surveyed the spread of tiny foods at the buffet table: palm-sized pizzas, each with three miniature pepperonis on top; assorted squares of chocolate cake, walnut-crusted German and dark devil’s food; raspberry sauce and creampuffs. Pigs-in-a-blanket made with spicy Italian sausage instead of hot dogs. Macaroons in half a dozen bright pastel colors. Baby quiches. She started piling two or three of each onto a clear plastic plate.

“See something you like?” A familiar low voice said from across the table.

When Laura looked up, she almost dropped her plate on top of the tray of tiny cakes. Carmilla always looked good in black--in anything, really--but her dress was utterly stunning. The layered mesh skirt was edgy, even for Carmilla’s wardrobe. The top was a little tight over her chest and showed off just enough to cleavage to make Laura’s head go fuzzy.

“Hey,” was all Laura managed before stuffing an entire mini pizza in her mouth, suddenly stress eating for a very different reason.

“Hey,” Carmilla said back, clearly amused.

Laura started to say something but forgot that her mouth was full of food. Her words came out less as “You look amazing” and more as a garble of m’s and ambiguous vowels. She gulped down the pizza and tried again: “Wow.”

Carmilla let out a scoff. “Yeah, they make good pizza. It’s Willyboy’s favorite.”

“No. You.”

Carmilla raised an eyebrow.

Laura waved her hand around in Carmilla’s general direction. “ _You’re_ wow.” She explained.

“You should have seen this dress an hour ago. Scissors are an instrument of miracles.”

Laura laughed. She stared at Carmilla, aware of the enormous grin on her own face.

“You’re really into that pizza.” Carmilla teased.

Laura nodded with feigned seriousness.

“Wanna go upstairs? It’s quieter. Fewer people.”

***

Carmilla was glad that she had managed to find Laura before her mother managed to permanently ruin their relationship (the nature of which was starting to confuse Carmilla, but whatever it was, she didn’t want to lose it). She would be perfectly happy to spend the rest of the evening in her room with Laura eating tiny foods. There were still two hours until midnight, two hours during which Mother could do something dramatic and awful. She usually gave a speech--yes, a speech--around fifteen minutes to twelve. Typically, it included a long list of her annual achievements, a “heartfelt” thanks to everyone at the party for making it such a fabulous year, and, for appearances’ sake, a shoutout to each of her children.

Mother devoted a few minutes each to Carmilla’s older sister Mattie and Will. Mattie was always off doing something incredible in another country, and Mother simply couldn’t resist telling everyone she knew about her daughter the Peace Corps volunteer, her daughter the refugee crisis worker, her daughter the immigration reform activist. Mattie, like Mother, did all the right things, but Carmilla knew that it was out of ambition rather than altruism. Well-liked people typically get more votes in elections.

Will was always framed as the sweetest of Mother’s children. She was such a talented liar that she had convinced everyone, including herself, that her son was a kind-hearted and generous young man. Carmilla, who had grown up under his cruel thumb, thought that he was far from sweet, but Will, like Mattie, had smartly learned that kindness can be a useful tool, though he didn't his influence as widely. He had a little group of ride-or-die close friends. Carmilla was surprised she hadn’t seen them at the party yet.

Carmilla thought about how different her siblings were from someone like Laura. Laura did and said nice things instinctually. She was wired to be kind. As far as Carmilla could see, Laura’s biggest flaw was that she expected the same from others. _Seeing the best in everyone will get you hurt, cupcake_. Laura was old enough to know that for herself, and the fact that she continued in her relentless pursuit of goodness and integrity anyway made Carmilla’s heart feel like it was cracking wide open. 

The two girls waited until Mother was out of sight at the other side of the party before escaping upstairs.

“Hang on,” Laura said, her foot already on the first step. “I’m out of macaroons.”

“Gotta say, sweetheart, I’m surprised you didn’t think to stuff your pockets,” Carmilla said.

“What do you think I’m going back to do? Hold this.” Laura handed Carmilla her plate. “You want anything?”

Carmilla glanced down at the plate full of fancy food and then looked back at Laura. Between the two of them, she was quite sure which she’d rather have. “I’m fine.”

As Laura made her way back to the buffet, Carmilla took note of how cute that outfit was. Half of her wanted to borrow Laura's gold-embossed skate shoes and little black keyhole dress. The other half was preoccupied with the thought of that dress being thrown across Carmilla’s bedroom and forgotten for an hour or so. Carmilla, determined to distract herself from such thoughts, elected to focus on the thin layer of grease atop the tiny pepperonis. She didn’t know if Laura even felt that way about her. They had kissed, of course, and maybe gone on dates. But that wasn’t a commitment, and Carmilla wasn’t keen on initiating emotional conversations such as those that might be necessary to define a relationship. That could be far too dangerous.

“Mmkay, ready.”

Carmilla felt like she had been suddenly jolted out of a dream when Laura reappeared in front of her.

“You’re twitchy,” Laura said, her cheeks once again packed with pizza.

Carmilla started up the stairs. If she didn’t say something sarcastic, she’d be at risk of revealing her feelings. “You know, with all you eat, one would think you’d have used all those calories to grow taller."

Something hit the back of Carmilla’s head. She looked over her shoulder to see Laura picking up a bright pink macaroon and popping it into her mouth.

Carmilla simply raised her eyebrows.

“What? I wasn’t gonna waste it,” Laura said. “Come on, slowpoke, you’re blocking the stairs.”

Together, they carried two heaping plates up the stairs. Carmilla had no doubt that Laura would try to eat all of it herself, but Carmilla would certainly be stealing some of the little devil’s food cakes.

The door to Carmilla’s room was ajar. She distinctly remembered closing it. She pushed it open to find three people inside. “What the...”

“Heyyyyy! It’s my sister!” Will exclaimed, his eyes red, slapping his friend Kirsch’s shoulder.

Carmilla stormed into the room to stand over Will. “What the frilly hell are you doing in my room?”

“There were coats all over my floor. Nowhere to spin the bottle,” he explained, holding an empty brown bottle out to his sister.

Carmilla swatted it away. “Are you high?”

Will and his friends exchanged glances. Then they started laughing. Kirsch doubled over, knocking heads with the redheaded girl across from him. Carmilla had seen her at their house before, but she never cared to learn the girl’s name. Once their hysteria had passed, Will answered his sister’s question with an alarmingly straight face.

“Aiming for crossfaded, actually. Mother’s parties are never fun sober. Right, Kitty?”

“Whatever.”

“You won’t say anything,” Will said. Carmilla wasn’t sure if it was an honest question or a threat. Will was difficult to read regardless of whether or not he was under the influence.

“Guess we’ll get out of your way then.”

The redhead jumped in. “No, stay,” she said. The girl was looking at Laura when she spoke, flashing a bright-toothed smile. “I don’t think we’ve met. Danny Lawrence.”

“Hey, off-brand Officer Haught,” Carmilla said, snapping at the redhead, “I don’t recall inviting this ridiculous circus into my room.”

Danny put her hands up in surrender. She leaned into Will’s space. “So she’s kind of intense.”

“Carm.” Laura’s voice came from behind Carmilla’s right shoulder. “Maybe we should go.”

“Oh, I think we should stay,” Carmilla said, hoping that if she stared at Danny hard enough her bright red hair might actually burst into flames.

“Dude,” Kirsch whispered loudly to Will, “they brought snacks!”

Will’s face spread into a gluttonous grin. “Have a seat, sis.”

***


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Karnsteins' New Years party is full of surprises--including an appearance by Carmilla's sister.

After two rounds of spin the bottle, Laura had been the unlucky victim of a kiss from Will’s friend Wilson (“Call me Kirsch. Don’t want you getting me confused with Will, little hottie”). Danny had received a light kiss on the cheek from Will. Supposedly, they were playing the PG version of the game, but Laura wondered how many of the unwelcome guests in Carmilla’s room were harboring more mature thoughts about where they hoped the game might go.

Laura, of course, had no interest in lunkheaded Kirsch, and his lips had definitely stayed on her face for a few seconds too long. Will’s other friend, Danny, would be considered attractive by anyone who looked at her. Her hair was smooth and shiny and her eyes sparkled--but something about her made Laura squirm uncomfortably. She’d been awfully aggressive about having them join the game. She was also taking advantage of any opening to prod Carmilla.

Danny reached out to spin.

“Hope you get lucky,” Will said, staring directly at Laura. She had a distinct sense that if Will were able to undress someone with only his eyes, he would do so at every opportunity.

The bottle stopped on Carmilla. Neither she nor Danny looked particularly pleased.

“Hard pass,” Carmilla muttered.

“Fine with me,” Danny said.

Will rubbed his hands together lasciviously. “No skips, no re-spins,” he said. “Them’s the rules, sis.”

Danny ripped off the bandaid. She leaned across Laura’s lap and barely brushed her lips against Carmilla’s cheek. If Laura had to label the sideways look that Danny flashed her, she might go so far as to call it flirtatious.

Laura was flattered, but she hoped that her own lack of enthusiasm would be enough to clue Danny in to her disinterest. There was exactly one person in the room whom Laura wanted to kiss, and she wished on all of the stars in the sky that the bottle would oblige. She closed her eyes and spun.

Unfortunately, Laura wasn’t an especially lucky person. When she opened her eyes, the bottle was pointing at none other than Danny.

With an awkward laugh, Laura turned to the tall-pale-and-ginger girl seated to her left. “Heyyy,” she said, complete with finger guns.

Laura could feel Carmilla seething to her right. Clearly, Laura’s tendency to go into adorkable overdrive under stress was not helping the situation.

“So, uh, you come here often?” Laura tried.

Danny laughed and leaned towards her.

Her cheek was strangely difficult to reach, and not because Laura was a few inches shorter than her even while seated. Danny hadn’t turned her head, forcing Laura to scoot around if she was to avoid the vicinity of her lips. Laura tried to get as far from Danny’s mouth as possible, eventually settling on the sharp edge of cheekbone back by her hairline. The peck lasted for less than a second, but that was two seconds too long as far as Laura was concerned.

With a tiny, joyless smile, Laura settled back into her seat and inched away from the girl she had just kissed towards the girl that she so wanted to.

“Hey, Drusilla, are you gonna take your turn or not?” Danny taunted Carmilla across the circle.

Carmilla cleared her throat. “Sorry,” she started, “I just remembered I have to be anywhere but here.”

In one swift motion, Carmilla was up and out of her room, leaving Laura with the party’s unsavory host and company.

“Suppose it’s your turn, Wilson,” Carmilla’s brother said dismissively.

As Kirsch’s hand landed on the bottle, Laura bolted up to stand. Three pairs of eyes landed on her.

“I’m out of snacks,” Laura said. She knew she wasn’t a convincing liar, but she tried. “Don’t wait up. You know how I am with mini pizzas.” She fake-laughed as if she were sharing an in-joke with her closest friends.

None of them said anything. Will opened his mouth slightly, but before he could say anything, Laura broke in again.

“Bye!” She squeaked, hurrying out.

There was an infinitesimal chance that Carmilla had returned to the party downstairs, and Laura couldn’t imagine that she would hide in her mother’s room. She tried the door to the master bedroom just in case and found it locked. For a moment, she worried that Carmilla was on the other side and had deliberately shut her out, but it was much more likely that Professor Karnstein had locked the room long before the party had started. The bathroom was empty. That left one potential hiding spot on the top floor--Will’s bedroom.

Laura’s hunch was right. The door to Will’s room had been closed when they came upstairs, but it was slightly open now. In Carmilla’s own silent language, that was as much of an invitation as Laura dared to hope for.

She pushed the door open slowly to see a striking tableau: Carmilla, sitting in the windowsill of the dark room, staring up into the darker sky. Her raven hair seemed to emerge from the night itself, and her silvery skin could have been knit from moonlight.

“For the record,” Laura said, standing still at the threshold, “I think you’re definitely more of a Xander.”

She didn’t hear so much as feel the vibration of the quiet chuckle that was Carmilla’s response to the joke.

Even with the lights off, the impersonality of the room was evident. There was nothing up on the walls that might indicate the likes and interests of its inhabitant. The bedsheets were a dark color, an extension of the Karnsteins’ sharp, monochrome wardrobes. Carmilla’s room, Laura realized, was a perfect mirror of Will’s, save for a small bookshelf and a (particularly creepy) print of a panther skull with butterflies coming out of the eyes that Carmilla had stapled to her ceiling.

Carmilla had a unique ability to sit perfectly still and cut herself off from the world. Competing with the vast and endlessly mysterious night sky for her attention was a daunting challenge. Laura searched for something to say, but nothing stood out as essential. Why break such a beautiful, placid silence?

She closed the door soundlessly behind her and waded through the pile of winter clothing on the floor to stand by the edge of the bed.

“Those imbeciles haven’t the faintest conception of boundaries,” Carmilla grumbled.

“You could chase them out of your room,” Laura suggested.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you to stay.”

Laura had a hunch that Carmilla was referring to something more than the spin the bottle game in her room, and she wanted to make sure that there was no ambiguity about her feelings. “I’ve never been a big fan of that game,” Laura shrugged. Then she leapt. “You never get to kiss the one person you actually want to.”

Carmilla’s focus snapped away from the sky as her gaze landed on Laura.

“Stoner jock isn’t really my type,” Laura smiled.

Carmilla moved like a liquid shadow as she rose up off the windowsill. It was marvelous, her enticingly restrained movement. Part of Laura agonized over the physical distance that remained between them, but she was captivated by Carmilla’s caution.

Suddenly, the slowness shattered and Carmilla was barely a breath away.

“Well?” Carmilla challenged. “Now’s your chance, cupcake.”

The low, husky timbre pulled Laura in. Along with the noise that Carmilla made when Laura’s lips latched onto her neck, that magnetic voice was one of Laura’s favorite sounds.

With one hand tangled in Carmilla’s hair, Laura kissed her way up from the soft skin of Carmilla’s neck up to her flawless jaw. Carmilla’s hands found their way to Laura’s face, and the gentle pressure of Carmilla’s lips against her own lulled Laura into a heady haze.

She sat back on the bed and was surprised when Carmilla stayed standing. Laura watched, curiously enamored with the girl who was timidly towering over her and refusing to meet her eyes. She slipped her hand into Carmilla’s, and Carmilla seemed to flinch at the contact. Slowly, Laura invited Carmilla back to her. When Carmilla finally looked up again, her burning stare made Laura feel as though the desperate flame in her stomach had exploded into a full-blown wildfire. She wouldn’t tolerate having Carmilla this far from her for another second. With an insistent tug, she pulled Carmilla into her lap and nipped at Carmilla’s lip with her teeth.

Carmilla’s hands pressed on Laura’s shoulders roughly, encouraging her to lie down. The sight of Carmilla on her knees straddling Laura’s hips might have knocked Laura out right then if she wasn’t to singularly focused on getting Carmilla’s tongue back in her mouth.

“Come here,” Laura breathed, her hands on the fitted waist of Carmilla’s dress, coaxing her down on top of her. Carmilla’s dark hair draped down, tickling Laura’s cheek and inspiring laughter to bubble up in her chest. She grinned against Carmilla’s mouth and wrapped her arms around her neck.

***

As far as Carmilla was concerned, this was, without question, the best New Year’s party she had ever attended. She didn’t care that she was wearing a once-hideous dress or that the stoner cohort had colonized her bedroom or that her house was infested with a gaggle of professors who cared more about tenure than teaching.

No, she couldn’t care about any of that. Not while she was kissing Laura.

She’d been half-sure, when she’d stomped out in the middle of spin the bottle, that Laura would make up some excuse to leave the party, or, worse, stay and play the game with the ginger giant and the dashing disaster duo. But part of her was beginning to accept that Laura very much did reciprocate Carmilla’s more-than-friendly feelings. She’d dared the sweetest, prettiest, chattiest girl at this party to kiss her. Carmilla had ended up on top of her, biting the smooth, tan skin just below her ear, eliciting obscene moans that wouldn’t soon leave Carmilla’s memory.

“Carm,” Laura groaned.

Carmilla had to pause to process her body’s reaction to the sound of her own name leaving Laura’s lips. She was caught off guard by the wave of emotion that overcame her. It was, quite plainly, overwhelming, and it took all of her willpower to resist the profoundly powerful undertow and keep from saying something that she wasn’t ready to admit out loud.

“Carmilla?” Laura repeated, sitting up. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Carmilla whispered, as she crashed back into Laura. She kissed her hard, praying for Laura’s tongue to help her force the words back into her throat.

“Is something wrong?” Laura asked, holding Carmilla back with a gentle hand on her cheek.

“Of course not.” Nothing was wrong. That was the problem. Without Laura’s lips on hers, Carmilla couldn’t find a reason not to say what she wanted to. “I--”

And then the doorbell rang.

“And the longstanding tradition of Sapphicus interruptus continues,” Carmilla muttered.

“You know, sometimes you really sound like an old-timey philosopher,” Laura laughed. “You sure you’re okay?”

Carmilla nodded, not trusting herself to speak a reply to the question. Instead, she kissed Laura again, softly. 

Laura pulled back and rested her forehead against Carmilla’s. “Happy almost New Year,” she whispered.

Carmilla smiled. 

The doorbell rang again, but Carmilla elected to ignore it. Whatever was going on downstairs was dramatically less interesting than the girl in her arms. Laura brought their lips together, quickly progressing to a more fevered pace that made Carmilla feel like she was being pulled underwater and somehow continuing to kiss Laura was the only way she could keep breathing. Carmilla was still seated in Laura’s lap, her legs spread to straddle Laura’s thighs, only a few layers of fabric between them. If Carmilla didn’t feel Laura’s hand up her skirt soon, she might drown entirely. For a moment, Carmilla sincerely considered ripping the mesh skirt off entirely and thoroughly ruining the already defaced dress in an effort to get closer to Laura.

“Is someone coming up the stairs?” Laura whispered.

Panic rushed through Carmilla’s veins. Outside the door, a familiar voice sang out, “Carmilla, darling, are you going to give me a welcome home hug or am I going to have to bribe one out of our brother?”

“Mattie?” Carmilla called back. She glanced at Laura, who looked utterly bamboozled by the fact that somebody in the Karnstein household bothered to knock before entering someone else’s room.

Carmilla got up from Laura’s lap and landed on tingling feet. Before she stumbled, Laura caught her arm. They walked to the door quickly and Carmilla cracked it open. On the other side stood her older sister.

***

Mattie snatched Carmilla into her arms. “Carm!”

“Mattie! It’s so good to see you,” Carmilla said.

Laura knew by now that Carmilla wouldn’t bother saying something so overtly sentimental if she didn’t mean it. Mattie, with her radiant red dress and warm embraces, stood in stark contrast to the other members of Carmilla’s family.

“And you must be Laura,” Mattie said, releasing Carmilla and squeezing Laura tightly.

“I...yes,” Laura said, surprised that Carmilla had apparently mentioned her.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Mattie said.

“You have?” Laura said. She was tempted to say that she’d never heard a thing about Carmilla’s sister, but the dangerously sharp smile on Mattie’s face reminded Laura a little too much of a hungry hyena.

Fortunately, Mattie lost interest in Laura quickly. Unfortunately, she turned to Carmilla.

“Now sis, I didn’t fly all the way back from Morocco to be the only Karnstein at the party,” Mattie started. “I can’t imagine that hiding out in some dark room is more interesting than engaging with all of Maman’s guests. Unless...” She looked back and forth between Laura and Carmilla as another terrifying grin spread across her face.

Carmilla crossed her arms and looked around like she was searching for something that had fallen on the floor. Laura could feel herself blushing and cursed herself for being a terrible liar.

“In Will’s room? Oh, kitten, you are bad,” Mattie said, slapping Carmilla lightly on the arm. “He deserves it, the little prick. I won’t tell Mother, promise.”

For some reason, Laura believed her. Carmilla seemed to relax, though, so maybe Mattie’s word wasn’t empty talk.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Carmilla asked.

“I wasn’t. But I missed my baby sister far too much to go another six months without seeing you.”

Mattie pinched both of Carmilla’s cheeks, making her scrunch her nose in annoyance. “Why are you really here?” Carmilla pressed.

“Something about the university, I don’t know. Mother got all moody and mysterious and insisted that I come home as soon as possible.” Mattie fiddled with the skirt of Carmilla’s dress. “Why don’t you two de-crumple yourselves and we’ll get back to the party? Maman’s about to make her speech.”

***

Carmilla was thankful that her sister interrupted when she did. If she and Laura had missed Mother’s speech, there would have been consequences of the most unpleasant kind. The party had grown quiet despite the fact that there were twice as many people present as there had been a few hours earlier. Any minute now, Carmilla’s mother would take up her position on the stairs and quite literally talk down to all of her guests.

Mattie had fetched them with enough time to spare so that they could make a final visit to the perpetually full buffet of tiny foods. Carmilla wondered how the catering company could possibly keep the table stocked while simultaneously remaining unseen.

Laura greedily grabbed as many portable treats as she could, and Carmilla couldn’t help but smile at how cute she looked doing it.

“What? I don’t want to waste it,” Laura said when she caught Carmilla watching her.

“Whatever you say, cupcake,” Carmilla replied, joining Laura and popping a raspberry from atop a little cake into her mouth.

“Those are the best ones,” Laura said, following Carmilla’s to the serving platter stacked with chocolate triangles. She grabbed the cake that Carmilla had left bare and outright moaned when she tasted it.

Carmilla was about to make a joke about hearing that same sound not too long ago when an authoritative clinking permeated the room. It was time for the speech.

“As many of you know,” Professor Karnstein began, correctly assuming that everyone had already dropped their conversations and turned their attention to her, “my eldest daughter Matska is in the country for the first time in a year. She's been in Maghreb for several months now working with orphans.”

 _Of course it's orphans_ , Carmilla thought. _Orphans make for the best press photos._

“In fact,” the professor continued, “ _Time_ will feature an entire piece on my daughter’s commitment to her global community in next month’s issue.”

Impressed murmurs filled the room, and Mother graced her audience with her signature serpentine smile.

“William has been accepted to Saint Andrew’s University in Scotland. He says he’ll study filmmaking, but I trust he’ll find his true calling,” she said, addressing William directly. He laughed along with the rest of the crowd.

Carmilla knew she was next.

“And for anyone who might need a date to the Winter Formal, Carmilla’s phone number is 555-6832.”

The crowd’s laughter flared. From his spot in the middle of the room, Will shouted, “Nice try, Mom.”

Her mother laughed. “I’ll say this for you, William. You speak your mind.” Her gaze snapped to Carmilla. “Just like your mother.” She looked back to Will. “I am so very proud of you all.” She raised her glass and took a sip.

Carmilla’s blood boiled. Her mother was trying to bait her, right here, in front of dozens of people, to speak up about her relationship with Laura. If she didn’t she would be a coward. If she did, she would be no different from her brother and mother. The supreme hostess said so herself.

“This year had been difficult,” Mother went on. “Those of us who have served Silas University for longer than our children have been alive,” she paused to allow the crowd to laugh, “have seen some surprising changes. Divisions amongst the student body. Rifts between faculty. But we have remained strong through even the most challenging of times, which is why I feel so privileged to announce that we will be breaking ground on the Karnstein Faculty Center on January fifth.”

The room burst into applause.

“Enjoy the rest of the party, everyone. And Happy New Year!”

_And with that, the matron descends to rejoin the plebeians. Count on Mother to command a crowd by serving them sugarcoated shit and calling it a compliment._

Carmilla felt something poke her right arm.

“Hey,” Laura said. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Carmilla said. She couldn’t seem to unclench her jaw, which probably made her lie a little less convincing.

Laura touched her arm, and the her touch started to cool Carmilla’s temper. “Come outside with me.”

Carmilla was more than happy to oblige.

They circled around the wraparound porch until they were at the back of the house.

“It’s almost midnight,” Laura giggled.

“Is it?” Carmilla teased.

“Guess I should make this fast.” Laura reached out and took both of Carmilla’s hands.

Carmilla stared at their hands, then looked up at Laura with a raised eyebrow. “What..?”

“Well, some crazy lady at a party gave me your number,” Laura began, “and I was gonna wait and text you later, but I really don’t wanna wait to ask if you’ve got a date to formal.”

For a moment, Carmilla wasn’t entirely sure that she had heard correctly.

“So?” Laura asked. “Go with me?”

The shy smile on her face melted Carmilla’s heart into a puddle. “I think I’d like that very much.”

***

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! Please leave any all and feedback and comments you may have.


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